


Rainbow In the Dark

by New_Breed



Series: Into m(ys)adness [1]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, just read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-04-23 09:29:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19148260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/New_Breed/pseuds/New_Breed
Summary: How can you call one normal in the place where every person around you is a trained super soldier. You cant, yet some people still find themselves as outsiders.





	1. Trial By Fire

**Author's Note:**

> So, couple things I need to get out of the way. 
> 
> Yes this is my first time writing. Please tell me where I need to improve. 
> 
> Yes, some of it is hard to read. I'm not exactly great at providing detail, so also tell me where to improve on that.
> 
> I will attempt to follow a schedule of one update every one or two weeks, but with my football practice its gonna be hard. Nevertheless, I shall remain dedicated. 
> 
> Also, I adapted Colt from another story I wrote, so some of the details are gonna be kind of weird. Hes on the shorter side, about 5'9 and kinda thin. His skin is very tanned, but you can tell hes half white and half Mexican. 
> 
>  
> 
> Now, after all this long bullshit, have a read and tell me what yall think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How long, on this longest day, till we finally make it through?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this kinda long. I needed to put in as much info as possible.

Trial By Fire

"So what information do we have on this kid. Dokkaebi, this is your department, any leads on who the hell he is." The older man pointed at the prisoner, who was tied up to a wooden chair. 

Dokkaebi typed on her tablet, pulling up a few social media accounts. "His name is Sam I think. Goes by Colt. Looks to be a private military contractor, although I dont know for what company. Not much of a media presence, an old Instagram account and a job listing in the deep web. Very, very interesting." 

The older man stepped forward and took the tablet out of Dokkaebi's hands. "Looks like hes seen worse." 

Thatcher held up the tablet next to the prisoner's face. It looked nothing like the smiling teenager in the photo. It was mangled, with multiple scars all along the sides, only being roughly covered with a thick, dark beard. His long brown hair reached to his deep, blue eyes, but Thatcher was still able to see into them. They were ablaze, constantly moving from one place to another. Like he was scanning the room, looking for an escape. 

Caviera stepped from the corner of the room, her face paint mixed with mud and blood from the previous mission. "Who cares who he is. He killed three of our own. Let's see what he knows and feed him to the wolves." She dug her knife into his face, tracing in between where his scars weren't. 

"You ain't the first to add to that collection llorona, and you wont be the last. I'll find your company and will not see the years end."

Caviera punched the prisoner, opening the cut more and allowing blood to spill all over her. She was about to hit him again but Thatcher stopped her. "That's enough, you know what the law says we can and cant do to prisoners. Rainbow specifically says we cant abuse them." 

"Wait, what." The prisoner's voice was high pitched, suprising for a man of his appearance. "What kind of mercs are you, following laws and stuff. Especially if Raul hired you. Hes supposed to be ruthless."

Thatcher got up and close into the face of the prisoner. "We ain't scum like you, we have rules where we come from." He turned to Caviera. "Are the FBI ops on their way, after all it was their recruits." She nodded. 

"FBI, what the hell," the prisoner said in a hushed voice.

The door to the dark room opend up and a fiery redhead walked into the room. She looked the prisoner in his eyes for a second before punching him square in the nose. He tilted his head forward, letting the blood drip onto his stained clothes. "That's for our recruits!" 

"Jesus, what's with you women, all up in this bullshit of mutilating my face." 

She punched him a second time before the door opend again. "Calm down 'Liza, I still want to get a few hits in." 

The prisoners head popped up like a meerkat. " I know that voice." The door opend all the way and exposed the speaker. "Holy shit, Jordan? Is that you Trace?" 

Thermite stepped back and stared at the prisoner. He studied his face intensely for a few seconds before saying a word. "Sam? Sam Emily?" The prisoner nodded furiously. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

The prisoner spat blood up before speaking. He aimed it right at Caviera's feet. "I got hired by Mexico to go undercover as an American bodyguard for a high ranking cartel member. I was about to get some incriminating evidence, but you bunch crashed the party. I had to take out some of your operators to stay undercover, but this puta had to capture me." 

Thermite nodded as he listened. "How do we know your not lying, I've known you for years, I've seen you make up some wack asss stories." 

The prisoner chuckled. "Figured. Look in my bag, I have a small camera, and notes about the cartel. I even have a wire on, just to make sure I captured that info." Ash tore his shirt open and reviled a wire going down his torso and into his pants. She began to reach and expose the box but the prisoner scooted the wooden chair back. "Ayo, you gotta pay if you want into that." 

Thermite went back to questioning the prisoner. "So what do you know about these people." 

"Well, other than the fact that you scared them back into a bunker for another year, that they were collaborating with a local terrorist cell and were making plans about an attack on a local village. Hell, right before you guys came in, they had set-up a meeting at their base." 

The group listened to what the prisoner had to say. Thatcher spoke up. "Well, if that's true, I think it should be Rainbow's job to stop them." A collective nod came from the group. Ash then asked "What about him? We cant just leave him tied up to a chair." Thermite stepped forward. "Let him help us". He pulled a small pocket knife from his pocket and cut the zip ties that held the prisoner down to the chair. He jumped from the chair and gave Thermite a violent hug. Thermite returned it with an equally powerful hug. "Welcome back, Colt." 

Colt released himself and went in for a handshake with Ash. "Look, I did a horrible thing. Made a terrible mistake. But if I-we want to take down these terrorists, keep them from hurting innocent people, then trust me." She stared at him, attempting to read his face. He looked like he was truly apologetic. But his eyes. They were still the same, that same intensity, darting all over her body, and behind, scanning his surroundings. "For the sake of the mission" she mumbled. 

...

Jordan regretted his choice almost as soon as Sam hopped out of the wooden chair and into the hallway. He began to roam the small building, which was acting as a holdout for the current operation. It was a squat, 2 story building about the size of a small warehouse. Come to think of it, that might have been what it once was. The place was mostly barren, with the bottom floor acting as a small barracks, and the top as the armory and misson control. It also had a small, secluded room that looked like it was once an office, and was currently used for the interrogation. 

The first place he wandered into was misson control, where Alex and Gustave were going over the details of the last mission. They were both hunched over the massive table that had all sorts of maps, diagrams, and images used as intelligence during the misson. "Hello Jordan" Alex boomed in his deep voice. "How did it go with the prisoner? I hear no shots so it must mean he's alive, yes?" 

Once he looked up and saw who actually stood before him, the large Russian reached for his pistol. Sam, with his extremely quick reaction time due to his lone season playing professional football, reached for a pencil on the desk. Before anyone could yell, say that Sam was a good guy now, he jabbed the pencil straight into the barrel of Alex's PMM. "Whoah, whoah, whoah, big guy! Same team, same team," he screamed. His voice changed from the last time they met, Jordan noted. 

The two of them first met on his last tour in Iraq. Jordan, being a squad leader and a breaching expert, was int he same fireteam as the young engineer. At first, they only talked when Jordan wanted some new explosives for breaking open doors. That all changed when 'the incident' happend(he was forced to gun down an innocent family cause they had evidence linking his company's 1st Sargent to a local drug trade). His mind began to feel more and more chaotic, with his ability to command his men slowly deteriorating, the visions of the children he shot clouding his sleep. But then, Sam noticed his leader wasn't feeling right. The simple words of "hey, Sarge. Are you feeling alright?" led to he and his newly found bestfriend taking down that corrupt first Sargent and leaving Iraq 'heroes'. Or so they thought. They both got blacklisted and were forced to retire from the Corps. After that, they lost contact, with Jordan deciding to go to college and Sam thinking he had a shot in the NFL. 'And to think, in the middle of a jungle in Mexico, would be where I would find him again.' 

Alex's yell pulled Jordan out of his trance and back into reality. "Help me Trace! He broke out!" Jordan walked up to the two and pulled them apart. "No, hes helping us out with a new mission objective. Hes got valuable Intel we need to bring down the local White Mask threat." 

The Russian stopped and mutterd a quick apology before pulling the pencil from his pistol. Gustave quickly ran to Sam, pulling on gloves and reaching into the first-aid kit he kept with him everywhere. "You guys might as well have killed him, his nose is broken and he has a massive cut on his face. I told Caveria to be gentle with him." 

He let his inner doctor come out as he cleaned out the wound and stitched it up, leaving another mark on Sam's disfigured face. "So uhh," he started saying. "Anyone else here that I need to know about?" Jordan nodded, leading him down into the first story. 

"Follow me."

...

"Okay, so starting with up there, the gas mask is Thatcher, the one with the tablet was Dokkaebi, the one with the face paint was Caveria, and the one who broke your nose was Ash. I'm Thermite, the big Russian is Tachanka, and the face-fixer is Doc. That too much?" 

I attempted to absorb all the information that was thrown at me. "Why all the funny names" I asked. 

"Cause that's how Six likes it," an Asian woman said from a couch across from us. "I'm Frost, by the way. Aren't you the guy that Caviera captured?" 

I nodded. "I'm working with y'all now, since we all want the same thing." She sighed. "Well, that's good too know. If Thatch was right about you, you would have turned out to be one big pain in our ass. Don't get me wrong, what you did was wrong, but to take out three members of Rainbow is no easy feat." She tapped me on the head real quick. "All right Trace, it's almost midnight, I'm going to sleep." She walked into an area coverd with curtains and disappeared into the darkness.

"Your team is more friendly than my last unit, they never even talked to me. All they wanted were orders."

"Well yeah, if we want to be an elite team, we need to have some type of bond in order to work together properly. You should have seen us in year 0, we could barely talk to one another, let alone carry out orders and get shit done. But Rainbow's psychologists, Harry, came up with some rules that enabled us to begin to bond and become like family." 

I turned myself to face him on the couch. "What kinda rules did he come up with." 

Jordan chuckled. "At first, it was dumb family bullshit. Game nights, therapy sessions, cook-outs, all shit you'd expect from like a TV show or somthing. But then, he gave the 'proclamation' as its known on base. Basically, relationships were open and we were allowed to have as much sex as we wanted, so long as it wasn't during missions." He began to grin, knowing what he was implying. "Although no one listened to that part. I can guarantee that Ash and Doc are back there shaggin'." 

I laughed. "Old times?" I got up from the couch. 

He pinched my ass. "Old times." 

...

Sam woke up at about 6am in the clutches of Jordan's scared hands. He took one of them and began to feel the burns that went down to his wrists. With his other hand, he felt his own face, where the countless knives and the mirror left him as the mangled monster he saw in his reflection. "Fuck" he thought. "I hate mirrors." 

He rolled himself over and looked at Jordan in his sleep. He always loved how he looked. Always peaceful, yet he knew the horrors that were dancing through his mind. He wrapped his arms around his long lost lover and went back to sleep. 

...

"Alright Mr. Hotshot, what's the plan." 

I looked up and was met with the look of the Russian sniper, Glaz. His bright blue eyes pearced me and looked past my own and into my soul. For one of the few times in my life I felt truly uncomfortable around a person. "Just let me finish up this map and we'll be onto it." He peaked over at my rough sketch and belly laughed. "You call that a map, my two year old nephew can draw better than that. I felt anger rise up in my body. I was about to get up and strike the man but Jordan, who hasn't left my side since last night, stopped me and put me back in the chair. 

"If you're gonna say shit like that, Timur, get out of here. Its hard enough for him without assholes like you in his life." Glaz walked away, baffled by what that statement ment. "You almost finished?" I nodded. "Just adding the final touches, then we can start. Call your unit up here." He walked off as I added the last shakey bits to my poorly sketched diagram. 

I rolled the paper out and let it cover the entirety of the table as I saw all the operators walk up the stairs and gather around the table. 

I pointed at the map. "So the building is three stories, two above ground, with one being half buried into the dirt. The top one serves as a barracks and armory and the bottom as a lounge area. The basement is a storage hold, along with where they keep hostages." 

I circled areas in the front. "Theses zones here and here can be used to set up an ambush, using Tachanka's turret, Frost's welcom mats and Glaz's sniper rifle. I can draw them out by saying Americans are attacking and leading them to the ambush spot." I paused, looking at everyone in the group. "Do any of y'all speak Spanish." Caviera raised her hand. "I know a little bit," she mutterd. "Good enough, all you need to say is 'help' and 'Americans' over and over. " 

I flipped the map so that way the back of the building was facing me. "So back here, we've got an 18 wheeler dock where trucks drop off supplies. The door should be closed, but I think we have a way inside." I looked over at Jordan. "Remember that thermite infused bomb we made back in Iraq. That one that could cut through titanium?" He nodded. "I made my way onto Rainbow with that thing, man. That's my special gadget." I cleared my throat. "Okay then. Use those to cut through the doors and sweep the facility floor by floor. If you find any hostages, have Doc take them to Dokkaebi's overwatch position and treat them. Then, after we get the hostages and kill the bad guys, hike the 2 miles to the airfield and get the hell out of here. That sound like a plan?" Everyone nodded in collective agreement. "Okay, let's make it a reality, break." I clapped my hands together and walked towards the armory. "Which locker is my stuff." 

Caviera showed me where they locked my lever-action rifle and M45 Meusoc that I kept from my days in the Marine Corps. I put on my denim vest over my white shirt and pulled the aviators out of the pocket. They had a crack in the lens, but they still held together. "How does it feel to be back," Jordan said as I walked out of the armory

"Maravilloso."  
...

"Why did you wear that face paint. The guards may have a hard time believing your a bodyguard like that." Caviera stared me down like I insulted her. "Who cares, you're wearing those dumb sunglasses." I pushed them further I to my face. "At least they look like they belong." We were within view of the compound, and I was able to spot two guards sitting in front. "Team one, in position," I said into my comms. "Team two is ready," Tachanka said in his thick Russian accent. "Team three is ago," Jordan whisperd. "Overwatch set." I noticed the glint of Dokkaebi's scope in the foliage. "And... click. We have access to their camera feed." Caviera took out her phone and looked inside, calling out where enemies were in the basement. "Eyes on the hostages," I asked. She shook her head. "Doesn't look to be any." 

"Wait one second," Thatcher's voice came over the comms. "You guys look too clean to have just been ambushed. Get some mud on your faces or something!" We took the old man's advice and coverd ourselves with mud and gave a thumbs up in the direction of Dokkaebi. She shrugged her shoulders, mouthing "so-so". "Well, fine then. Cav, let me see your knife." She apprehensively took it out of the sheath. "What are you gonna do" she whispered.

"This,". 

I stabbed myself in the stomach before ripping the blade out violently I coverd my clothes and arms in the blood before pulling out some gauss, which I stuffed into the hole, and duct tape, which I used to keep it in place. I have a bloody thumbs up to Dokkaebi, who just looked horrified. "Guess it worked," I coughed. "Here, help cary me." I wrapped my arm around Cav, who grudgingly let me lean my body weight on her. "Phase one is ago, move!" 

We limped into view of the guards, who pointed their guns at us. One of them recognized me and asked what's up. 

"Americanos, americanos! Los americanos nos atacaron." I yelled. Caviera backed me up. "Por favor ayuda. Los americanos." 

The guard hit an alarm and in a matter of minutes about twenty guys carrying AKs came to the front. "Dónde están, señor Colt?" 

I got off Caviera and fake limped back up the trail. "De esta manera." 

They followed us a little bit up before I led them right into Tachanka's turret. He opened fire right as Caviera and I jumped out of the way. "Phase two is in motion." 

I pulled my lever-action rifle up to my shoulder and took down two bad guys. Tachanka had already taken out about ten of them, and with welcome mats all over the side of the road, plenty of people were retreating and getting caught in mats. One guy was screaming for reinforcements before Caviera crept up to him and interrogated him. "How many of you are there."Doscientos cincuenta." He answerd. She proceeded to slice his throat, letting him bleed out in front of her. "What did he say," I yelled over the roaring gunshots. "Two hundred and fifty!" I sighed. "Shit, we got more on the way. Tachanka, we got 200 more!" He swapped the magazines out and pointed it down the road. "Let them come," he said, the words echoing under his helmet. 

...

"Really big fuckin' hole in the wall, comin right up." Thermite pulled the trigger and the charge blew a hole big enough for all the operators to run through. They piled in, clearing the immediate area of two hostiles. He motioned Thatcher and Ash forward, forming an arrow while Doc stayed at the back, ready to pull someone to safety. "Sweep and clear. Make sure all Tangos are clear before grabbing hostages. 

The team spread out, searching every corner of the large basement. He took out another three terrorists with his AR, while finishing two others with his personal M45. "Clear, no signs of precious cargo." Another clear came from Thacher. "I've got 3 body bags in a cell, look to be the hostages Colt was referring to." Thermite ran to Ash's position, seeing Doc and Thatcher already there. Inside the bags was a family, with a man, a woman, and a little boy and girl together in a body bag. 

Thermite's blood began to boil as he examined the bodies. "Colt," he called into his comms. "Colt, come in." Crackling came into his earpiece. "Little busy man, hurry up and get the hostages." He let out a small cry when he said hostages. "They're dead Sam." 

Two words came over the comms that drove him over the edge. "Avenge them." 

Over the next hour, he got more confirmed kills than he had during his entire time in Iraq. 

"Redemption" was what he used to justify it. 

...

On the other front, however things were getting quiet. After a few waves of hostles came through, roughly 4 waves of about 20ish guys each, things slowly got quiet. We decided to move the ambush closer and closer until we got up to the front where we decided to pick off any stragglers who were tryin to escape Jordan's fury. 

There was a particular one though, that caused a lot of hell for the team. She was wearing a bomb vest and charged at us, getting caught in a welcom mat before blowing herself up. One of those bits of shrapnel lodged itself into Frost's gut however. 

...

"Doc! We need you, Frost is down!" He ran over to our position, his surgical kit at the ready. At that time, Thermite ran out of the building holding a young girl, about 13. "We found her huddled up in a corner on the top floor, we think she was a slave." I brushed passed him and moved towards Frost and Doc. 

"The part was lodged into he small intestine, I need to stabilize her before we can move." I looked down at my watch. We began the operation at 1900, and it was already close to 2200. "How much time do you need, Doc?" He slipped on his surgical gloves and pulled his tools out of the bag. "I need to do surgery on her right now, maybe 5 or 6 hours." I shook my head, "we don't have that kinda time. Can we wait on it." He gave me an evil stare. "Unless you want her to die."

I weighed the options. Have the team stay here and fight off the reinforcements, who were gonna come, or leave her. "We dont have the ammo to fight them off, but we cant leave her here." I the plan came together in my head as I spoke. "Jordan, last night after... you know what, you told me you had about 20 operators out in the U.S. on standby, right." He nodded, his mind going back to the other thing they were doing last night. "If you guys can take the plane and go get them, a d then bring them here and help us extract Frost, we should be fine, right." Jordan shook his head. "No no no, we cant leave Doc here alone. Someone needs to stay behind and protect him." I thought it out. "One for the front, two in the back, we can keep this place mostly secure." I looked over at Tachanka. "Mind if I borrow your LMG?" He took a satchel with about 12 full drums of ammo off his body. "Only cause I love Tina like little sister." I pulled the turret and set it up in the front, so I had a full 180 degrees of vision. "I need someone else to stay and keep Doc safe." Caviera stepped forward. "I owe him one for pulling me out of a buring armored car in France, this is the least I can do." I turned to the 6 other operators who stood before me. "Go. Go and get your friends, have them come and help us. We should be fine, go. Now." 

They took off with the girl in tow, disappearing into the thick jungle that surrounded us. "Its almost midnight now, we just have to hold out until 0600." Doc nodded as he and Caviera pulled Frost into the building, where they could get me if they needed. I moved some of the body's around and formed a makeshift barrier out of the corpses of the terrorists. 

"This is gonna be a long night", I said to myself, as I pulled back on the charging handle, ready for them to appear out of the jungle and come to take us.

...

I had an odd habbit of singing while I fought. I kinda used it as an intimidation like thing. Tonight, thinking this was a suicide mission, I sang 'The Last Stand' by Sabaton. Specifically, the ending .

"Dying for salvation with dedication  
No capitulation, annihilation  
Papal commendation, reincarnation  
Heaven is your destination." I gunned down wave after wave of them while repeating this line.

"In the name of God!" I used this as my rallying call. It brought my morale up so much. It gave me hope that I would see my mother, my family, my best friend all again.

"For the grace, for the might of our lord  
For the home of the holy  
For the faith, for the way of the sword  
Gave their lives so boldly

For the grace, for the might of our lord  
In the name of his glory  
For the faith, for the way of the sword  
Come and tell their story   
Gave their lives so boldly  
Come and tell the Frost Guards' story again!" This is how I felt, what I thought they would remember me like if I was to perish in this battle. I repeated it over a d over again from 0500 to 0600, once the backup came. 

A blackhawk landed amongst the sea of bodies that surrounded the compound. I held the M45 in my hands, about to shoot Jordan as he came up to me and shook me awake. "Hey buddy, you good." I sprung awake, searching around. "Did we win?" I saw Frost getting carried out on a stretcher to the helicopter, alive, but not awake. "Yeah, yeah you did." My vision faded as I felt Jordan pick up my body and carry me to the helicopter. "Come on, let's go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what yall thought


	2. Welcome To The Elite, Rookie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eisoptrophobia- The fear of mirrors, typically associated with a traumatic incident in ones past involving a mirror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to be back in the saddle, writing again. I've been making these a little long, and soon I may go for 2 a week or so, or I'll just drop them whenever they are ready. 
> 
> Going forward, I will stick with first person MOSTLY. I will do select sections in third person however. 
> 
> Also, I really fucking love commas.

I didn't remember much of the ride in the helicopter, or us boarding the plane. Consciousness came to me in waves while I was on the plane though. Doc had hooked me to a bag of fluids, saying I was "too dehydrated to even move, let alone carry on normal bodily functions." 

 

I was able to pick up a few little snippets of some of the conversations that went on between who was on the plane. For the most part, they were all about me. They talked about how I met Jordan, if they should trust me, and who the hell I even was. That is one of the conversations I remember vividly. 

 

I heard a man with a thick Italian accent speak. "Do we even know who he is?" Doc then spoke. "It doesn't matter. He fought of about 400 white masks all on his own, just to save a life. I trust him already." 

 

The plane landed after a few hours, and I felt Jordan shake me awake. "Come on buddy, where here." I looked around and saw no less than 30 people staring at me. I waved at them and hobbled out of my seat and into a downpour of rain that surrounded us. 

 

"Where the hell are we," I asked Jordan. 

 

A voice cut through the rain. "England. Specifically, Hereford Base." Jordan tensed up, standing to attention and saluting. "Six." The man laughed. "What did I tell you about all that saluting shit Jordan?" 

 

He chuckled. "Sorry Harry. I'm still used to Arnot being uptight about all that. 'Six' shook his finger. "We don't need to insult her?" He turned towards me. "Samuel Charles Emily. I have to say, it's very rare we have operators seek out Rainbow. Typically, we send someone out to do find them for us, but you. You didn't do that, and I have to say I'm impressed." 

 

I looked to him, dwelling on one of the words he said. "Wait, Rainbow. I worked with a lot calling themselves 'rainbow' back in 2010." He nodded. "Same group. And I am the leader. You're supposed to call me 'Six', but that is just too professional. Call me Harry." 

 

He began to walk off the runway and to a large building. "Come along Sam, I have some important information I must go over with you." He led Jordan and I into the building. "Your file has crossed itself over my desk many, many times since we reactivated. In fact, you were one of the first operatives we looked over. Alas, you were always beat out by others. But now, with you here, and the show you put on down in Mexico, I think it's only right to ask you to join Rainbow." 

 

We walked into a small room that had 3 chairs, a small table, and some kind of tape recorder on the desk. "Please. Have a seat." I sat in the solo chair while Jordan and Harry took their seats across from me. "Now, one thing I figured out that made operators more comfortable was when we went through their psychological evaluation using someone that they are close with. It is proper for me to assume you are close with Trace, correct?" I nodded. 

 

"Good. We are going to ask you a series of questions about your life and we want you to answer as honestly as possible. Remember, were blacker than black, so you can include all the details that may be behind black tape." 

 

He handed a piece of paper to Jordan that I assumed where the questions. He cleared his throat and began to read them off. "So to start, it says you were born in a small town in Utah, but moved to Los Angeles. What was the reason for the move." 

 

"My twin sister. See, in the little town I grew up in, my dad used to own a restaurant. Well, co-owned. That all changed when I was three, when her throat was slit in front of my face on a back room of the place. To make matters worse, it was by the other owner wearing one of the mascot suits. My dad got really abusive towards me and my mom, and after a few months we left that place and moved with her family in California." 

 

He read again. "Your file also says you began playing football at a young age." 

 

I carried on with my story. "Yeah. In LA, my uncle was training me to become a leader in his gang one day. My Abuelo said enough of that shit and put me in a pee-wee football league. I stood out, not just due to my athleticism but also my leadership. It helped me earn the respect of loads of my peers." 

 

"Your file goes on to say that at the end of your sophomore year, you quit football and finished school 2 years early. Why did you do that." 

 

I clenched my fists. "I don't care what your security clearance is, for the sake of all that were involved, I will never talk about what I saw in Hurricane. All you need to know is I went back to my hometown and found out a lot about my dad." 

 

He nodded. "Okay then. So you finished high school and joined the Marines. You trained to become a combat engineer, yes?" 

 

"Well yeah. I always loved working with cars and engines. Really just about any machine. It's one of the few traits that I like that I got from my dad, he used to work with robots. I figured I would be fixing machines and stuff, but I just ended up blowing stuff up. I liked doing that too." 

 

Jordan chuckled. "Same here." He paused for a second before turning to Harry. "Can we not ask this question, I don't feel comfortable putting him through that again." 

 

I knew what he was talking about. "Iraq eh? What a shitshow." I motioned my hand down. "Don't worry about it. So I got deployed under Trace as his demolitions expert. During an op, we were forced to kill innocent civilians. No one took it as hard as Jordan, and with a small amount of experience in psychology, we talked it out. It turned into a relationship and we brought down our corrupt 1st Sergeant." 

 

Harry stepped in. "Is that why you were blacklisted." I nodded. "Yeah, I took the fall and became a PMC." 

 

Jordan asked the next question. "Is that when you were selected for Directive 51?" 

 

"Yeah, yeah it was. These feds came up to me after that CT mission I worked in Vegas and asked if I would become a sleeper cell for them. I agreed, wanting the freedom. I took my training and moved on, finding something else I wanted to do." 

 

"And that something else was professional football?" 

 

I chuckled. "Yep. I knew I still had the skill, and I got signed by a team as a 3rd string backup. The two guys in front of me went down and I led my team to a championship. They gave me a phat contract with 10 million dollars guaranteed, but I only played for half the season." 

 

"Yeah, the Dollar Flu went down in New York, and you were activated." 

 

"I was a part of the third wave. All I needed to do was support the joint task force with eliminating the last of the rouge agents on the island. You think Iraq was bad, have you ever gotten a whole agency shut down due to how badly it backfired. Too many agents lost their will and joined up with PMCs and fought against the JTF. It was horrible."

 

Harry broke into the conversation. "You know, your actions in New York were what put you on the table for Rainbow. You handled that situation very well with what you were provided." 

 

"Tell that to the feds then. After New York, I moved on to some cult in Montana, just acting as a bodyguard for their leader. They attempted to radicalize me and I got the fuck out of there. I was also contacted by some shady organization called 'the Brotherhood', I ran a few missions for them. All that led to me working for the Mexican Government undercover for a few months. And well, you guys captured me." 

 

"Okay, so how do you feel that your skills can help Rainbow." He turned to Harry. "Uh, he doesn't really have a skill." Harry glanced at me. "Yes he does. Do you know anyone who could use Alex's turret, Tina's mats, and Gustave's stim-pistol. It's his adaptability." 

 

He moved own. "Next question, how do you feel you'll fit into Rainbow?" 

 

"To be honest, I don't know. Almost all of you are brilliant tacticians, and you don't really need an extra gun. I guess I can just be a yes man, work on all the little things that people don't want to do." 

 

"Moving down the list. Why did you chose Colt as your code name?"

 

I shrugged my shoulders. "It was a nickname from my high school football days. College scouts used to say I was 'more accurate than .45 long colt', and that kinda stuck after my NFL years."

 

Harry stood up from the chair. "Well I have heard enough. I think it is good for me to extend my prosper offer for you to join Rainbow. So, will you take it?" 

 

Almost immediately I accepted. "Hell yea. I may not fit in, but I know you are all the best of the best. I need to start working with people like you again, not random gangs and cartels that need a gun-for-hire." 

 

He laughed "Good, that's good. Jordan, you show him around while I work out the logistics. For now, you'll bunk with Jordan till we get you proper barracks." 

 

He opened the door, and Jordan and I filed out of the room. "Well, where do you want to start," Jordan asked. 

 

"The basics, where to sit, sleep, and shoot." 

 

We toured the facility and I met lots of the operators along the way. In the mess hall, the SAS and Spetznaz were having an arm wrestling match. That all stopped however, when Alex announced my arrival. 

 

"Samuel, my friend. Come, have a drink." His voice boomed in the mess hall, where almost no furniture except for a few tables allowed a massive echo the likes of only mountains could see. 

 

The Russians for the most part had the same greeting as Alex, with only Glaz giving me the cold shoulder. On the other hand, the SAS were not as open. The only one who actively talked to me for the few minutes I was with them was Seamus, who I made quick acquaintances with. The others, most notably Mute and Smoke, said that they were gonna "wait till my psych report comes out" to talk to me. I inquired to Jordan what that meant. "Oh, after every operator first mission, Harry gives an evaluation, judging from your interview and how said mission went." 

 

We moved on from the mess hall and to the laboratory, where Doc and 3 other people were hard at work. After a quick follow up with Doc, I was introduced to Finka, Lion, and Lesion. Finka was very outgoing, sharing that with her Russian counterparts. The other 2 however, were quiet and only said a small greeting. 

 

The next area we went to was the workshop, where about 10 or so people were working on various gadgets and gizmos. Jäger and Mira greeted me by name almost immediately, and walked with me to meet everyone else that was in the room. Other than those two, everyone else in the workshop were quite, saying a quick introduction and going back to their work. Jackal was modifying his gadget, Twitch and Rook were arguing over the specs for some little drone, and IQ, Pulse, and Echo were attempting to build a small drone that combined all their gadgets together. Hibbana was standing behind them, laughing about how they argued like little kids. 

 

I did have a mostly friendly interaction with Alibi however. We talked about the previous mission, how I did some cool shit and all that other stuff. I, however, was fascinated by her gadget, and I came up with a few ideas on improving it. 

 

"You know, if you reroute the power from the mechanism and share it equally with the mirrors and darken them, the image should appear more stable since its reflecting less light from the outside." 

 

She looked at me with an 'ah-ha' type of expression. "That's genius", she said with her thick accent. "Come to the workshop after your tour, give me a hand with it." Although she had on thick goggles, I could feel a wink from her. 

 

When we left, Jordan confronted me in the hallway about it. "How the hell did you do that. Aria never talks to anyone but Adriano. " 

 

I shrugged my shoulders. "Everyone loves them some good ol' scarface I guess." 

 

Up next, we saw the barracks, which took the style of college dormitories. They only had a bathroom and a place for a bed, but it's better than sleeping on the ground like I did in Mexico. One thing that's pretty cool is all the operators from the same region share a common room. In the American one, I met Blackbeard and Castle. Both of them were very cool with me, even complementing how I handled the operation. 

 

I noticed that no one brought up the fact that I murdered three of their own. I murdered three of our own. And no one seemed to care. They thought just kept sending itself into the back of my mind. 

 

The last place I saw was the training area, which had an obstacle course, weight room, and a shooting range. The last of the operators I needed to meet were here, but they for the most part all had headphones in and I couldn't talk to them. 

 

I did get to meet Valkyrie though. She, like Alibi, held a full blown conversation with me. Unlike Alibi, she made her intentions very clear, greeting me with "hey handsome, was wondering when you'd come my way." 

 

We talked about a bunch of random stuff for 20 minutes, and after I exhausted about every topic we went on to guns.

 

"So what's that, looks like an MP5?" 

 

"Close," she said. "It's an MPX." I vaguely remember the name from a gun show I went to. "Huh, yeah it is. MP5 is way better. More accurate and reliable." 

 

She scoffed at my comment. "Wanna bet. It's all about the shooter for accuracy, and I've had this thing for about 15 operations, before and after I got selected for Rainbow." She walked off to a large shack and pulled out an MP5 with 2 magazines of ammo. Jordan tapped my shoulder. "Oh that's the last thing. The armory is stocked with just about any gun masses produced by man." 

 

Valkyrie proceeded to lead me to a small course that looked to be a mockup of a warehouse. "My record is 45 seconds for a total clear with 2 mags. If you can beat that, I'll buy us a drink tonight." 

 

It was my turn to chuckle. "You're on."

 

During my training for Directive 51, I stood out in CQC and room clearing. Even when I was in New York, all the other agents would give me a call anytime someone needed to crawl into a sewer to take out some cleaners, or clear an apartment block of rikers. So to me, it was no surprise that I finished in 22.5 seconds. I think it was a shock to Valkyrie and Jordan though. 

 

"Holy shit!" She still carried that stunned impression on her face. "The only person to come close to that was Finka, and she took at least 30 seconds. But you, hell no. I pray for whoever you're against when we do wargames." 

 

She walked off, telling me she'll come when we go for drinks. 

 

"Well," Jordan asked when we got back to his room. "What did you think?" I nodded my head. "I like it here. You guys all feel like one big community. I guarantee I made the right choice." 

 

I looked down at my hands, realizing I was still dirty from last nights operation. "Hey, uh, can I use the shower?" He pointed at the small door leading to the bathroom. "Just don't use my good shit. I'll give you some sweats and a hoodie for after."

 

I gave myself extra time to fully scrub all the dirt that caked my arms. I even went through my beard twice to make sure I had gotten everything out. The wound in my gut was cleaned with extreme care, as I didn't want to ruin the handiwork of Doc's stitches. 

 

After, I took a long hard look at myself in the mirror. "Eisoptrophobia," I thought to myself. I had that wikipedia article's words etched into my mind. "Generally, an individual that deals with eisoptrophobia has been traumatized in an event involving mirrors." 

 

I popped the door open and shouted at Jordan. "Ey buddy, you got a trimmer?" I heard a muffled response. "Yeah, top drawer." It sounded like he was in the common room. Before I closed the door. I grabbed the sweats, white shirt, hoodie, and socks he left out for me to change into. "Couldn't even get me some skivvies." I muttered to myself. 

 

With the razor in my hand I trimmed my hair down to an acceptable level, leaving enough on the top for me to comb back. Up next, I hacked away at my very long beard. I took me a few minutes, but I got it too an acceptable level, shorter than Blackbeard's, but not unnoticeable. I ran my fingers over the scars that lined my face. "...traumatized in an event involving mirrors." I guess getting your face bashed in multiple times by your father's best friend in a furry costume counts as severe trauma. 

 

I felt refreshed after the shower, and I made my way to the workshop. I pulled the hood up and let it cover my exposed face, but it didn't matter. Everyone I passed still started, looking at the jagged lines that marked my face. 

 

When I finally made it to the workshop, it was mostly empty, with only Jäger curled up in Mira's arms on one of the tables. I looked around and found Alibi in the back, swearing in what in assumed was Italian. 

 

"What's wrong," I asked her. She looked over her shoulder and pulled her goggles off. "I keep trying to reroute the power like you told me, but the coglione wont respond." She whacked the gadget with her hand, activating the display. It stood for a few seconds before flickering and shutting down. "Can I take a look," I asked. She pulled back, taking her goggles and face mask off. "Here, you'll probably need these." I grabbed the face mask quickly and pulled it on before I took off my hood, attempting to hide my mutilated face. I took the goggles and as I pulled them on, she did the same thing, tracing her finger along her face and muttering something. 

 

"Ah, see this is what's wrong. The mechanism is dirty, it's got soot from when you rewired the battery. All you need to do is wipe it real quick and it should be stable." I held out my hand, bunching my fingers up to grab her attention. "Can I get a cloth or something?" She went back and took a little cleaning cloth used for glasses from Dokkaebi's workstation. "I hope she won't notice these missing." I quickly wiped down the mirror and the new wires that connected it, then switched it on. The image appeared, flickers for a second, and then went stable. I ran my hand through it and the picture didn't waver. 

 

"Yes!" She hugged me. "I knew it would work. Thanks for the suggestion Colt." She pulled the mask away from my face and kissed me on the cheek. After she released me from her bear hug, she ran her fingers across the scars on my face. "What happened. How did you end up with all these marks?" I sat down in a chair, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "It's a really long story, you sure?" She nodded, taking a seat right next to me. I pointed up at two really faded ones on my forehead, right above my right eyebrow. "So these two I got after I ran into a table at my abuelo's house. When I got the stitches, it looked like a negative one. I used to be teased by my family because of that, always calling me negative one." She laughed. "That's horrible." 

 

I moved on to the next one. "So right here, on my chin, I got when I was tackled in the middle of a football game." She looked confused for a second. "I thought tackling was against the rules of football?" I thought about what I said for a second and then realized my mistake. "Oh, American football I'm sorry." "Ah, that makes sense," she said. "Yeah, the coaches wanted to pull me from the game but I just stayed in. I stuffed a few napkins from my bag into my chinstrap, put my helmet back on, and won the game. It was a playoff game, and I wasn't about to lose due to a few drops of blood." "Wow, that's pretty cool." 

 

The next ones I got a little apprehensive about, and she sensed I was feeling uncomfortable. "What's wrong?" I thought about my answer, not wanting her to know about my past. "This one on my right cheek was from when I was robbed when I was 17." 

 

I then pointed right in front of my right ear. "Got that from some shrapnel in Iraq. And the rest, are from when my face was repeatedly smashed and dragged through a mirror." 

 

We sat in silence for a moment, my depressing comments bringing our mood from joyful to somber. A loud alarm brought us out of our mood and drew our attention. I asked what it was. "Oh, that's just telling us its meal time." I looked around till I found a clock and it said the time was about 1730. I felt my stomach rumble, realizing I haven't eaten anything since last night. 

 

We walked together to the mess hall. Before we left however, we woke up Mira and Jäger, telling them what was happening. As we reached our destination, she stopped me. "When we are in there, in front of everyone. Call me Alibi. When we are together, alone, call me Aria." She gave me another kiss on the cheek and walked in, standing in line with a big Italian man, who I learned was Maestro. 

 

After pulling my hood up, concealing my face as best I could, I scanned the line not wanting to wait in the back as my hunger manifested itself into my mind. At last, in the front of the line I saw Jordan, who motioned me into the front with him. "Hey buddy, how'd it go?" I shrugged my shoulders. "Good, we made the modifications and it worked." He elbowed me, rubbing it into my gut. "You know what I mean, are you gonna get some? She seemed into you." 

 

I punched him in the arm. "Wouldn't you like to know. Can't get any so you try to piggyback off me?" He laughed and took his tray, loading up on food. Glaz and Tachanka were behind the counter giving massive servings of Russian food to anyone who said "please."

 

After we got our food, we sat down in an isolated corner, away from everyone else. Some people tried to sit with us, like Blackbeard and Castle, but Jordan waved them away. "So first things first, here take this." He pulled a smartphone out of his pocket. It had no brand and looked nothing like any phone I had seen before. "Harry wanted me to give you that but I forgot to. Its preloaded with all the operators contact info along with the programs you need to access the drones and cameras. Also it's got internet access, but Harry can see everything you do. Even when you use incognito mode. So keep the porn to normal levels, and don't watch weird stuff." I shrugged off the last comment and asked about if it could have games. "Can this thing run Madden Mobile?" He giggled like a little kid. "Always straight to the football. Even if there were tits right up in your face you would be more worried about what play you're gonna run next time you're on the field." He shook his head. "I take that as a no?" "Yeah, we cant download apps onto it, that could compromise the programming." I shrugged. "Makes sense." 

 

He went on. "Second, you need a rundown of who's on and off limits on base. I know you're trying to get good with Alibi, but in case that shit crashes and burns, it's good info to know.You still go both ways or am I a one time deal." I had my face stuffed with food so I held up two of my fingers to let him know he was a one time thing. "Well I feel a little special now. So Hibana, Gridlock, and Zofia are the only ones that are specifically off limits. Zofia is married, Hibbana and Pulse are together, and Gridlock is with that short guy Mozzie. I'd watch out for Ela, Caviera, Ash, and Valkyrie though. Ela and Cav are off and on, Ash is also of and on with Doc, and Valkyrie has fucked almost the entire base." I chuckled. "So you did get some." He looked at me with an angry face. "Ha ha, sorry I got standards." 

 

We finished our meal in peace, with the occasional visitor stopping by and chatting for a minute. Valkyrie stopped by, saying well go out on Friday after our training. I asked about what training. "Oh yeah, every Friday we have this day long scenario thing where we practice our three main situations. Rescue hostages, defusing bombs, and securing shipments. One team attacks the area and the other defends. I have no idea what you'll do, but Harry will probably have you rotate every few rounds." I muttered a quick "oh" and finished my food. 

 

After dinner, I went out to the obstacle course with a small bag. In it, I had a football, some running shoes I borrowed from Jordan, and headphones, also borrowed from Jordan. When we were doing the tour, I made a note that there was about a stretch of about 100ish yards between the weight room and obstacle course that would be perfect to use for a workout. I plugged in the headphones, tucked the football between my arms, and began to run. During my "workout" I heard my phone buzz multiple times. Not wanting to quit, I kept going, pushing my exhausted body further and further than I wished I could. 

 

After my second break, I saw Aria walk from out of the facility and to where I was sitting. She sat down next to me and looked at the setting sun. "You really keep yourself hidden, don't you?" I looked over, meeting her bright brown eyes with mine. "I just enjoy being alone sometimes. It let's me think out loud without people judging me." She gave me a confused look. "So you think out loud by running?" 

 

I got up, getting ready to start again. "Yeah. All the built up, pent up anger and emotion I just let it out while I run. Its either this or when I'm in a workshop. It gives me a safe area where I can let my mind wander to dark areas that I don't like going to, but it needs to. I guess the right word is therapy. Its therapeutic for my head." I stopped my rant and looked at her. Her eyes still had the same confused look, but she wore a smile. I could tell it was genuine, like she still enjoyed just being around me. "Sorry, I have a tendency to rant when I'm talking about stuff I hold dear to me." 

 

She got up, brushing grass from her butt and got into a runner's stance next to me. "Daymn" I thought in my head. "Let me try it. Wanna race." I shook my head and chuckled. "Oh, it's on." I launched the football into the air and it landed about 50 yards away. "To the ball and back?" She nodded. "On your move." I started running, taking an early lead but she quickly caught up. "Oh, like that," I huffed. When I touched the ball and took off, using what my coaches liked to call "closing speed." She had a 10 yard head start on me, but I quickly caught up and managed to dive over the bag that we used as our starting line. "Damn, your fast." I tried saying 4.24, which was the forty yard dash time I recorded during my tryout for the NFL, but it came out as "phour piant toe phar." "What?" I sat down and let myself catch my breath. "That's how fast I ran 40 meters. 4.24 seconds." "That's pretty impressive." We sat down together, looking into the sunset. Again.

 

"If you don't mind me asking, why do you wear that hood. Earlier today, you didn't worry about how you looked. Now, you keep your face hidden, as if you thought you are a monster?" 

 

I rubbed my face. "Before, my face was covered in dirt, and I had my beard and long hair. Now, I just feel exposed." She put her hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry about what they think. All that matters is how you feel about it." 

 

We stayed like that for another hour or two, talking about random things. We talked about her past, about mine, we went on about our various operations, anything we could think of, we sat there and went through it. I felt as if I was a 16 year old again, talking to some random girl that I had a crush on for a few hours. But this, it felt different. 

 

It felt better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I have to put the division, assassin's creed, far cry 5, five nights at Freddy's, and Madden in the tags. Maybe, ion know.
> 
>  
> 
> Anyone tryna play? Xbox, Dakman515. Thermite on offense, I play everyone I have on defense. Im a tad trash but whatever.


	3. First Time?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The obstacle course was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having fun with this

Over the next few days, I spent my time either with Aria working on various gizmos and gadgets, with Jordan running and gunning, or just in my newly acquired room reading and talking to Aria. The two of us had bonded a lot over the past few days, and it was extremely helpful to have someone to talk to about my problems with other than Jordan. Not saying he isn't great, I love being around him, but Aria is different. She doesn't try to joke around, and she's given me genuinely good advice about how I should feel confident about my face. 

 

Friday came, and so did our war games. We ate a massive breakfast late in the morning, with everyone separated by offense and defense. I sat with Aria in the defensive section. I got a strange look from Maestro when we sat together. "You have been spending a lot of time with her." I shrugged my shoulders as I quickly inhaled my food. "Yeah." Aria hit me in the shoulder. "Do not talk with your mouth open!" I muttered a quick apology before she hit me again. "Don't worry about him Adriano, he is a good man." He shook his head and went back to eating. "So, what are you going to be doing. Will you be on offense first, then defense. Or what." I stopped shoving food into my mouth and swallowed so I wouldn't piss her off again. "I requested to play defense for half the session, then offense." 

 

After our meal, we went to our "lockers" to prepare. They were more like small armories, complete with a gun rack, hangers displaying multiple uniforms, and various other equipment. Mine was situated between Jordan's and Pulse's, and a few down from Aria. A little note was folded and tucked right next to my lever action rifle. "Jordan said you had an affinity for this gun, so we had it fitted with our tech so you could use them during the training op. We also have an M16, M60, and your M45 fitted with the tech, so feel free to switch between them as you please. ~Harry." 

 

I picked up the lever action rifle, which I had turned into a mare's leg, that meant the barrel was shortened and made it able to fit into my leg holster. I dressed into my blue jeans, a white shirt, and my green vest. I then put on my holster, grabbed my ammo pouches, and pulled on my goggles. I found an old half gas masks, the type that are normally seen in movies and stuff, and decided it would be useful for intimidation. It worked, cause when I walked out to greet Jordan, he jumped when he saw me. "Jeez man, you look terrifying." 

 

I pulled the mask down and let it rest at my neck so I wouldn't scare Aria too. Also, it was kinda hard to breathe in it. "Hey Aria." She finished putting on her uniform as I walked in. "Hey Sam." I sat down on a crate right next to her. "So how does this work, so we like shoot blanks and call ourselves hit or something? Is it like paintball?" She grabbed her Mx4 and started walking to the door. "The guns shoot a little sensor, and who ever is mission control can track who has been hit and will call you dead over the comms." 

 

We walked out into the warm British sun, letting the rays hit the exposed parts of our skin. For Aria, it was only her face, as her goggles and face masks were not on yet. For me, I felt the heat hit all over my body, hitting my arms, face and head. It felt really good to have a rifle in my hand. 

 

We reached a large, three story building that looked like an exact mockup of the facility we were living in. Except it was much bigger. I saw most of the operators already gathered on a field close by, so the two of us walked over. Sledge was standing in front of everyone, waiting for all the people to make the walk. 

 

"Glad all of you could make it. So, as you all know, we have a new operator amongst our ranks. You all know the rules. He's team leader for all of the day. Alright, we'll go 12 rounds, 4 bomb, 4 hostage, and 4 secure. Then we'll break for lunch and do another 12. At that time Colt will switch sides and go to offense." 

 

He called me forward. "Okay rookie," he said in his deep Scottish accent. "Pick the site and team." I looked at the map, scanning all the locations. I picked barrel depot and storage. For my team I picked Alibi, Rook, Mira, and Tachanka. Then, Sledge picked his team, but we couldn't see since we were forced to our bomb site. 

 

"Okay, I want that wall, that wall, and that wall reinforced." I gave the orders as best I could to my team, letting them place their gadgets. "Bomb site compromised." Harry's voice boomed over the comms. Little drones kept whirling around the bomb sites. Some of them found hiding spots, others taunted us. 

 

Before the preparation phase ended, I walked off of objective and let myself roam the upper level. I checked and double checked my lever gun and my M16, making sure they were loaded and ready to fire. 

 

When I finally heard people, I found Maverick alone, sneaking down the stairs. I snuck up on him and shot him in the back. "5v4" I heard the announcer say.

 

The good times of me getting my first kill didn't last for long, and after a few seconds it went from a 5v4 to a 1v3. I ran as fast as I could to the objective. When I arrived, I dommed Thatcher with a headshot. "1v2". I then turned the corner and sprayed the rest of my mag at Sledge, who was in the corner. "1v1, bomb defuser planted." I pulled out my lever gun and ran to the other site, where the last person must be. In the last site, I noted a small area that was perfect for concealing a person. I emptied the entire tube as I ran into that spot. I brought Jordan down to really low health, where all he could do was sit there and not move. I loaded one more bullet into the chamber and pointed it at him. "Looks like I won this one." I finished him off and defused the bomb. 

 

The rest of the half went a lot like that. My team went 9-3, only losing one bomb and 2 secure area games. They were tough, with Smoke accidentally killing our entire team in a 5v2 situation. I managed to pull a 26-2 kill to death ratio, which surprised me a lot. I mean, that's nothing on my numbers in Iraq, but still. I would have managed to take out 13 highly trained operators before I would have been killed. 

 

We broke for lunch, dropping off all of our tactical gear in our lockers. As I walked up to the mess hall, Aria came up and began to congratulate me. "You did great in there. 26-2! The last time someone did that well was when Tachanka got that shield on his turret." 

 

During lunch, I sat with Jordan and the rest of the American attackers. We ate are meal swiftly, as for all of us were eager to get back out to the field again. After the meal, we went back to our lockers for only a few minutes, just enough time to swap weapons or equipment if you wanted to. Half the people just grabbed their guns and left. I switched from the M16 and picked up the M60, feeling its heavy, cumbersome weight in my hands. "It's been so long." I also swapped out for my pistol, figuring I would need the extra few rounds if I was caught in the middle of a reload. 

 

Again, we met back in the same spot, with myself and Kaid the team leaders. Kaid picked his team, which consisted of Echo, Doc, Caviera, and Valkyrie. They went to the bomb site they chose, leaving myself to pick my team. I want with Jordan, Ash, Blitz, and Finka. We all selected our spawn points. Jordan and I went to control tower, Finka and Blitz were at a shooting range, and Ash was all alone at spitfire courtyard. 

 

We got thirty seconds to drone out the building and make a plan as to how we were gonna attack. Ash made the callout that they were on the third floor, and we rushed our drones to their position. "Guys, be careful. Caviera is roaming the bottom levels," Blitz whispered into his mic. "Action phase is ago."

 

Jordan and I got off our phones and began to rush the building. Before the round started, I asked if I could have one of his exothermic charges. He gave it to me, although grudgingly. "Don't waste it." We rushed into the garage, doing a full sweep of the first floor before creeping up the steps to the second. Before we could reach the top, gunfire and a scream came from the other side of the building. Ash's panicked voice came over the comes. "CAV ON ME!" A few muffled bumps followed, and then Caviera's voice came over the comes. "She broke so easy!" A barrage of shots came into our direction from the objective. I fired a couple of potshots and managed to get a kill. 

 

"Adrenaline surge incoming!" I felt a warm feeling spread through my body, as if I was coming off a high. Not being able to stop myself, I charged straight onto the objective. I couldn't feel my body, and the only thing that told me what I was doing was the constant sound of the announcer. "4v4, 4v3, 4v2, 4v1." In the end, I had gotten all 5 with only my pistol and a knife.

 

The rest of the game went the same way, with myself pulling 45-1. I had won the day's MVP, and the respect of most of the people on base. At dinner, almost everyone wanted me to sit with them. I didn't, and chose to sit alone with Aria. We ate our meal in silence. "Are you still mad about what happened in the basement?" She gave me a death stare, equivalent of the one Ash gave me on that day in Mexico. "I still don't know how you did it. It was a 1v5 and we knew where you were. Just how?" I shrugged my shoulders, remembering that as one of a few matches where I clutched up. 

 

After the meal, most of the operators gathered together to go for a night out. Jordan had pushed me to come, although I would have rather spent the night in the workshop helping out Jäger and Aria with our new project. Alas, I rode shotgun in Jordan's sports car as we sped down the highway. It wasn't long before we arrived at an old, worn out pub. The place looked even older than Kaid. Although it looked like a dump on the outside, the atmosphere on the inside was something I don't think I will ever forget. Unlike most of the bars in LA, even Mexico that I used to visit a little more often that I wish, this one felt upbeat, like they were there to have a good time. These people weren't trying to drown themselves in whatever was the cheapest drink, they were having conversations and laughing. It was a different environment than I was used to, but I will say I'm impressed. 

 

After ordering our drinks, we were led to a large secluded room that was half the size of the normal bar. It was littler with a small booth, a long table, and a small bar. The bar had a door behind it, out of which a fat guy with a bald head walked in. Thatcher walked up to the bar and greeted the old man. "Mac, you sonofabitch, howya been." The bartender started filling mugs as the two made conversation. The beers were passed between us as everyone made their way to different seats. I sat with Jordan at a smaller table, where about 6 others sat with us. Among them were Pulse, Hibbana, Blackbeard, IQ, Bandit, and Finka. We took our drinks and began to reflect on the training that we just went through. 

 

IQ took a long drink of her beer and looked to my direction. "Not one person has been able to do that, especially not a rookie. You are not just a marine, are you?" I downed the rest of my beer, then signaled for the bartender to bring me some more. "Ever hear of Directive 51?" All the people at the table looked between themselves and shook their heads. "It was this crazy ass project that the Feds came up with. Supposed to be the last resort, incase doomsday ever happened. Remember the Dollar Flu?" Finka shot her head up. "Were you in New York?" I nodded my head. "Yeah, but not the point. I was trained as a CQC specialist for the Division. Anytime they needed a sewer to be cleared, or had an apartment block full of bad guys I was sent in. Between that, Iraq, and my merc work I've had a good amount of combat experience." Most of the group started laughing. "You, have a lot. What's your kill count?" Everyone stared as I took another long chug of my beer. "473 confirmed. Unconfirmed about 1,500. Maybe more." The laughter and conversation happening around the bar completely stopped. Everyone was looking with a dead stare. Blackbeard was stunned, daring to ask "what," in a weak voice. 

 

"473 confirmed. Did I stutter?" 

 

The bar remained quiet for a few minutes as low whispers turned to small conversation, and before long the normal laughter returned. I continued to pound beers for the rest of the night, going back to my old ways of getting blackout drunk and seeing where the next job would lead me. As I got drunker, the questions from my new team began getting flung at me. The two most common ones were about my face, which they couldn't break no matter how much they fed me, or what I thought of Aria, which as the night went on I refused to acknowledge as anything other than 'the cute one who's nice to me.' After some time, my vision began to fade. I knew I would pass out soon, but I didn't know when. 

 

The night took a turn when at about 11. Valkyrie walked away from who ever she was chatting up at the time and turned her attention to me. "Hey big boy, been wondering if you would head my way." I stared up at her with my drunken gaze. "Naw," was all I said. She proceeded to get more violent after I repeatedly said "leave me alone" over and over again. It boiled over to the point where she jumped on top of me in my chair and started making out with me. After a few seconds she pulled me close and whispered into my ear "If you wont give it to me, I'll just have to take it." Cheers came from the bar as she tried to undo my belt and take my pants off. The only person who tried to help me get her off of me was Jordan. We threw her off of me and I stumbled out of the back room and to the exit of the bar. My drunken mind raced. "What the fuck just happend?" I pulled out my phone, thinking about who I could call so I could get the hell out of here. I settled on Aria, and after a minute fumbling with my phone I called her. "Hey Sam, what's up?" My words slurred as I spoke. "Heay. Can you come pick me up?" The phone was silent for a second, then I heard the distinct jingle of keys. "Where are you?" I told her the name of the bar. "I'll be there in a few minutes." I plopped down onto the curb and waited. 'I'll get it myself.' Those words were the same ones spoken time and time again in the many bars I used to frequent. One time, I was raped in front of a whole bar, but no one helped since the girl was hot. Headlights started getting closer, and I was able to make out Aria in the driver's seat. At that moment, I heard a loud crunch, felt something hit my head, and everything went black. 

 

I awoke to the taste of iron in my mouth. My head stuck to the concrete as I rose up. Finka and Alex were wailing on two people that were held down to the ground. Aria had another two at gunpoint. A metal pipe was right next to me on the ground. It kinda shimmered, but after a moment I realized it was blood. My headache, and I realized a bit of the bone felt a little loose. "What the hell?" Alex stopped beating the thug to a bloody pulp and looked up. "Sam, how you feeling?" I put my hand onto the back of my head, where i was still bleeding. "How long was I out for?" Finka also stopped and shrugged her shoulders. "Alex and I were just about to leave when we saw these cyka blyats going through your pockets. Alibi rolled up and pulled her pistol out and held those two, while we took care of these ones." The sound of sirens began to fill the air, and more operators began filling out of the bar. Jordan and Thatcher helped me to my feet while Valkyrie began kicking the shit out of one of the guys in the floor. The cops showed up and arrested the thugs while they took my info. "If I was you, I would get to the hospital." I shook my head at them. "I've got someone to take care of it for me, just lock those bastards up." I hobbled my way to Aria's car. Blood started to seep into the seat. Jordan stepped to the window and began to talk to me through it. "Hey man, don't fall asleep. You probably have a concussion." I fought of the exhaustion I felt all through the drive back to base. It was to the point where I could barely walk. Aria had to actually help me out of the car. She practically carried me to Doc's office, where he checked me for a concussion. 

 

After some stitches and a few pills, I finally fell asleep.

 

...

 

I woke up about a day later. Aria was beside my bed, sleeping in my lap. Jordan was also asleep in a chair right next to my bed. She must've felt me stir, cause she sat up. "Hey big guy," she whispered. "How you feel?" Jordan also began to stir. Once he saw me up and well, he cracked open the door and shouted "hey Doc, he's awake." Doc walked into the room, holding a clipboard. Behind him was Valkyrie. "You need to stop ending up in my office. Looks like a concussion and a few cuts. Nothing too horrible." I felt the long stitches in my head. "How long do I gotta be in here for?" He checked his watch. "Another hour or so, just to make sure your vitals are normal." He walked out of the room, but Valkyrie did not follow. "Hey, uh, you mind if we talk." "Is it about last night?" She nodded. "Alone, please?" Jordan immediately walked out of the door, and Aria was about to follow. Before she left, she gave me a kiss on the forehead. "See you later." 

 

The door closed and Valkyrie sat down on the chair. "I'm sorry. I was really drunk, and no one has ever reacted like that. I should have noticed you were uncomfortable." I remained silent. "Okay, then I guess I'll leave you." She got out of the chair and opened the door. "Shesh." She was trying to whisper, but I could still hear her. "I don't know what you see in him." Another whisper came, but it was soft. "He's a broken man. Hell tried to drag him in, but he broke the grasp." An annoyed sound came from Valkyrie. "Why you gotta always be so complicated." Footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door creaked open and Aria walked back in, going back to her chair at my bedside. 

 

"As a kid, in LA I was raised to be very religious. As I grew older, my devotion to God slowly became corrupt. I began drinking and doing drugs just to I could be popular at my school." I chuckled, trying to hold back the tears that almost began to form. "Being a star quarterback that won a championships in my first two years wasn't enough." Once she noticed the tears start to form, she immediately began to comfort me. "It doesn't matter what others think of you, only how you view yourself." I carried on with my story. "The one thing that I carried with me was my refusal to have sex. My girlfriend at the time tried everything to convince me otherwise. Well at a party she got me blackout drunk. Once she figured out I wouldn't remember what happend, she took advantage of the situation and raped me. I didn't even know about it till one of my 'friends' showed me a video he took." Aria didn't react. She just held my hand, squeezing it occasionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, please tell.me what y'all think. I can't improve if I don't know what to improve.


	4. Stuck In the Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The only reason I managed to crawl out of that godforsaken hole was because the flame that fuled me burned brighter than the inferno I was surrounded by."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bad news: this chapter and the next few are late. 
> 
> Good news: I finally figured out what I want to do with this series.

_Screeeech_. I knew that sound. It was metal, dragging across concrete. "Where's the exit! Where? Where!" The mirrors surrounded me, slowly closing, trying to suffocate me. "Please! No!" The sounds got closer and louder, until all the mirrors suddenly shattered but two. "No!" The thing appeared, slowly dragging itself out of the mirror. It reached out a mangled, yellow paw and grabbed my hair. I looked up, seeing its red eyes gaze into mine. 

 

The force broke my cheekbone instantly, as glass shards were embedded into my face. I screamed again, and again, and again as my face was repeatedly dragged through the jagged glass shards. The monster paused, admiring his work. "Let's taste death." Smash. "Again." Smash. "Again." Smash. "And again." I couldn't see, my vision taking on a dark red tint. The blood seeped from my body, staining the yellow rabbit suit the man was wearing. I laid there for hours, thinking I would die. 

 

The first thing I did after I shot out of my bed was feel my face. The scars were still jagged and raw. Next I looked over at Aria who was in the bed next to me. I debated if I should wake her up, disturb her night due to my horror, or let her sleep and talk it out in the morning. I didn't need to choose, cause once she felt me move she also woke up. "Another nightmare?" I nodded. "Same one?" I nodded again. She laid down on my chest. "Sam, you can't keep running from it. You have to talk about it sometime, otherwise its gonna eat you up". I stroked her hair. "It hurts. It hurts so much, even to this day." She looked up, into my eyes. "Of course it's going to hurt. But unless you treat the wound, its gonna spread and kill you." I sniffled, trying to stiffen my tears. "Can I be little spoon tonight?" She got off me, allowing me to slip under her and nuzzle up. She wrapped her arms and legs around me as I began to cry. "I'm sorry, buddy. I'm so sorry." 

...

 

The office was busy with activity when I approached it. Sledge and Thatcher stood at a table, marking locations on a map. "Hey, y'all seen Harry?" They both pointed to his office. I knocked on his door, listing for if he was busy or not. "Come in." I opened the door and saw Harry reading through some paperwork. "Hi Sam, how's it been." He reached for a tape recorder that he kept by his desk. "It's good, I just had a question." He pulled his hand away from the recorder. "Go ahead." I looked down at my shifting feet. "Um, I get this is a military base, but I figure since we're Rainbow it might be different. Can we have dogs on base?" He looked up from his paperwork. "I don't see why not, as long as their trained, why? Do you want to adopt one?" I shook my head. "No. I have one back in Los Angeles that I haven't seen in nearly a year, and I really miss him." He sorted through his papers again and pulled one up. "Los Angeles. Hmmm, we got word of some white masks holed up there, you can get your dog after your mission." He handed me a piece of paper and I read over it. "Can I bring a person with me?" He nodded again. "Sure, as long as they aren't on the current OP. All the details are on that paper." 

 

The first person I thought of was Jordan. He's my best friend and I always promised to take him to LA when we were in the Marines. I found him in his room. He was gathering his equipment up, getting ready. "What's up Sam?" "Oh, I'm going to LA for a terrorist hunt, and I was gonna ask you to come with me. But it looks like you're busy." He stopped taking inventory. "Yeah, Phantom Sight is taking off. We're mobilizing half the base. I'm pretty sure Aria isn't going though, you should ask her." 

 

I walked back to my room and found Aria still asleep on the bed. She heard the door open and immediately jumped up to cover herself. "Oh, it's just you." I put the paper down on the bed next to her. "Have you ever wanted to go to Los Angeles?" She relaxed, letting the blanket fall and expose her nude body. "So we leave later today?" I nodded and grabbed my bag. "I'm also going to grab some stuff from my old house. Quick two day trip." 

She quickly dressed herself and went to her room. "Meet in the locker room after everyone leaves alright. " 

 

I gathered a set of normal clothes, my flannel, and my boots. I slung the bag over my shoulder and walked to the lockers. They were bustling with activity. Half the base was there, attempting to gather their equipment and get their shit together before they had to leave for the operation. I slipped my way into my locker and gathered my tactical gear. "Let's see, lever gun. M16. And, M45. I threw the guns into a duffel bag along with a plate carrier, the half face mask, and some other armor. I dressed into my combat outfit, which was just my jeans and a white shirt. As I double checked my equipment, Aria walked into her locker. The place was mostly empty, as for the last transport for Operation Phantom Sight was about to leave. Only Jäger and Mira were left, saying their goodbyes. "I always come back." Mira was crying, however. "New Mexico is still burned into my mind. But you are right. You will comeback, you always do." They parted with a kiss as Jäger ran to catch up with the rest of the operators. I tightened the grip on my rifle. Those were the words that I always heard at the end of my nightmares. "He will come back, he always does." 

 

"You good?" Mira was standing at the door of my locker. I looked into the mirror quickly and saw I was clutching my rifle close, making a face like I was being tortured. "Yea, I'm fine." She walked all the way in and sat next to me. "You don't look fine. I get that the whole first mission thing is hard, but don't worry. You will be fine, no matter what. Rainbow always takes care of their own. I know your with Aria right now, but anytime there is something hard for you, come talk to me." I smiled, one of my only genuine ones talking to someone other than Aria and Jordan. "Thanks Mira." She gave a giggle. "Please, call me Elena, or Ellen." The door burst open and Aria walked in, holding her combat gear. "Elena, what are you doing?" She held a tone of questioning, rather than accusation. "Oh, just trying to get Sam here to open up a little but more. Marius has been wanting to have a couples night out, but Sam here hasn't really been open. I'm sure you'll crack him like an egg." She went for the door. "I didn't see your names on the roster, where are you going?" Aria held out the paper that detailed our terrorist hunt. "Ah, I see. Too bad you are leaving tonight, Monika and I are on dinner duty." She left, saying a greeting to Ela, who was also there saying bye to Caviera. 

 

"You ready?" I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the locker. "Ready, what weapons did you choose?" She opened her bag and showed off her AA12. "Just this little guy. And my .357. What about you?" I showed my M16 and lever gun. "Ah, the classics I see." We walked in the opposite direction as where the training course was. The runway was about a half mile away from the lockers. "So... what are terrorist hunts like?" She pulled her goggles up. "They take time. You can't rush through and clear everyone out in a few minutes. Be cautious and watch your fire, and you will be fine." The plane was a massive cargo ship. We were gonna fly with that to D.C., then take a normal flight to Los Angeles. TSA was alerted of our . . . different cargo, so we shouldn't be stopped. 

 

Almost instantly after boarding Aria tried to fall asleep. Her excuse was "your tossing and turning kept me up all night," but I knew the truth. I woke up a few times crying because of the nightmares. I pulled out my mp3 player and shuffled through my playlist, finding a playlist that I could use to relax. I settled on "Ain't No Mountain High Enough", allowing it to play. Aria reached out a sleepy hand, mumbling "let me listen." We exhausted my jazz music, and I had to switch to my metal playlist. She pulled the earbud out of her ear as the sounds of guitars and screaming filled the air. "That's too much for me." I pulled the bud back into my ear, letting me get my full dose of Iron Maiden. "Suit yourself." I fell asleep rather quickly as I listened to Bruce Dickinson yell about Where Eagles Dare. I sung along to the words I knew. "Into the night, they fallll from the skyyyy, no one should flyyy where eagles dareeeee." I attempted to hit the high note at the last word, but failed miserably. The last thing I felt before my deep sleep was Aria laugh at my failed attempt. "They've got to tryyy, to save the dayyyy." 

 

We both woke to a loud thump as the plane landed at the small government airfield. "Oi, this your stop." The man had a distinct Boston accent. Aria gave me a puzzled look. "What did he say?" I stifled a laugh as the pilot started yelling, but she didn't understand a word he said. "Why does he talk funny?" Out of respect I didn't respond, only rolling up my sleeve. "Leave her alone." I showed a scar on my right arm, one that I got during the Superbowl. "Free beers for life." He had his hand up, ready to throw punches, but backed away. "Only cause your with him. Get your broads on a tighter leash Mr. Emily." This time, I had to hold Aria back from tearing this guys head off as she let of a string of swears in Italian. 

 

A black car was situated a little further down. The driver noted that we were both carrying massive bags, so he drove the car as close as he could. We loaded our stuff into the trunk and took our seats in the back. "What time is it?" I looked at my phone. "About 1100." "What time is our flight." I pulled the paper out of my pocket that said when takeoff was. "1200. Hey driver can you go a little faster?" "Sure boss." The car slowly accelerates forward as the driver weaved between cars, trying to make the fastest route to the airport. We made it with 20 minutes to spare as we quickly grabbed our bags and ran through the door. "Thanks bubs," I yelled to the driver. He gave a thumbs up and drove off. 

 

We were met with little opposition as we made our way through the airport. It ended when we saw the massive line for TSA. "Damn, we've gotta get through." One of the agents began to whisper to another, as he pulled up a piece of paper and squinted at us. A quick nod and a "yeah, its them," followed. The man who spotted us walked up. "Sam Emily? Aria De Luca?" Aria nodded and I said "yeah." He put his finger up and beckoned us to follow him. We did, and skipped the line. "We don't know who you are, but we have orders from our supervisors to not check your bags and just let you through. Kinda suspicious, but orders are orders." As we walked through the metal detectors, they blared loudly revealing the armament we had in our duffle bags. "I don't even want to know." 

 

We boarded the plane without further incident. I checked my mp3 player, and saw it was only at 30%. "Guess no more music." Aria chuckled and pulled a portable charger out of her bag. "I got you covered. Put back on that Jazz playlist." I pulled out my earbuds and scrolled through my music, pausing on the playlist named "Jazz and other shit." 

 

The flight was very uncomfortable, with a mix of kids screaming, some guy trying to sleep on Aria's shoulder, and some crazy lady demanded that I swap seats with her. But even as the whole ass world tried to drag us into its complete and utter madness, we kept our sanity. It was hard, but we focused on the music. It was kinda like a little portal, it helped us escape out of this distraught place and into one where I can focus. 

 

The music guided my thoughts, and there where a lot of them. During more serious songs, I thought about my mission. All the ins and outs of the satellite photo we saw. All the possible things that could go wrong, and what could go right. When more somber and depressing songs would begin, I would think about my dog. He was the whole reason I was doing this, and why I wanted to come to Los Angeles on the first place. I missed him so much, and he used to help with my nightmares a lot. I always thought about then, but now that I'm close to people again, it's a reminder of that night in Hurricane many years ago. Once the lighthearted songs came on, I thought about Aria. Our relationship really took of since I was jumped outside of the bar a month ago, and she's been helping me a lot with my nightmares. We've talked a lot about our pasts, her describing her family and how her dad was extorted by a mob. She always got so angry when she talked about that, but it switched once she described how she infiltrated the mob and crumpled it from the inside. I tried to avoid my time in professional sports, but it always comes up after we exhaust all my stories about New York and Vegas. I will not say I hate talking about it, and there are days where a small crowd gathers at my table as i describe the final seconds of the championship game I won. 

 

_ The force of the hit knocked me back onto my ass almost immediately. The only thing I could think was "don't drop the ball," but I did. Luckily my teammates were closer than the other fuckers and were able to jump onto it before any of the linebackers were able to noticed I fumbled. My buddy James, who was the center, handed the ball to the ref right as our coach called for a timeout. It was 2nd and 13, so I was super confused as to why we were stopping. _

 

_ Then I felt the slow plat plat on my helmet. Supposedly, we were supposed to have blue skies the entire day, but the clouds lingered even into the night when the game started. Anyway, the rain fell as I ran to the sideline, trying to figure out 'the hell is coach doing. It was only to ask if I was feeling a'ight after that hit. Apparently my head was full on slammed into the turf. I knew something felt off, but with only 1 minute left in the game, it didn't matter. I needed to win. "Nah" was what I told the coach. I don't even think he was asking me a question, just going over what we were gonna run for the next play.  _

 

_ So the two minutes end and we get back out there for the play. I remember something feeling off about the defense. When you study a team for a week, you get time to learn all the ins and outs about them. I watched so much film that I knew the linebackers feet placement. But everything was wrong, like they changed their entire game plan just for this one moment. I changed the play to a QB run, since our whole philosophy was "if I ain't comfortable, run the damn ball!" That was a bad move, well supposed to be a bad move. Those flying bastards blitzed 7 people. 7 guys had one job and that was to take my head off. Luckily for me, all the fast guys were busy with the wideouts, so I managed to use my speed to out maneuver them and break free. I was supposed to make it all the way to the endzone and score, but one of the skinny boys broke free and managed to catch up and trip me.  _

 

_ As I was on the ground, my arms spiralled to the side, one of the fat boys that was chasing me stepped on my launching arm. 400 pounds of pure muscle stomping down right on thee most important part of my body at the moment. That shit hurt. It hurt a lot. I managed to crawl to my own sideline as we burned our last timeout with 44 seconds left on the clock. Sweat was already pouring from every hole on my body, so it didn't feel weird that some liquid was pouring down my arm. It was only after the trainer rushed over a put a towel on it that something began to not feel right. They kept on demanding that I sit out, saying "it's too deep, you might open it more." I politely asked they put some gauze over it and then tape it up. After a minute of arguing, I was stuffing the hole with a towel and wrapped my arm in duct tape. _

 

_ That was an image I saw for many weeks after. Me, wrapping my arm in that shiny silver tape, contrasting with the blue of my jersey. I ran in, hoping it wouldn't come loose as I took the snap. At that time, it hit me I was trying to play with a concussion and a cut open arm. Yeah, I wasn't exactly the smartest on the team. _

 

_ The first play went well, with me throwing a gental 5 yard pass, which put us just inside the 15 yard line. Second and 5, and we do a run play which gets us down to the 7. 30 seconds, 4 tries to win. First down, straight dive. Gets 2 yards. Second down, quick pass, get another 3. I'm trying to hustle everyone to get set since we only have 10 seconds left when I saw that same anomaly as earlier. I called the same QB run, hoping it would work again. The clock kept ticking, 3, 2. I managed to get off "set go" right as time expired. I grabbed the ball and ran forward, thinking about nothing else but reaching the endzone. Even if a bunch of dudes were in my way.  _

 

_ Now, one thing to know about the NFL is just how fucking massive everyone is. Sledge is short compared to half those guys. So I had to leap up, as high as I could, and reach over everyone. Even as they tried to sink their fingers into my bleedin hole, it didn't stop me. Normally, I would show off my ring at this time, but it's in LA. I wasn't even able to have an acceptance speech for my MVP. They rushed me off the field and into the med room immediately.  _

 

_ So uh, yeah. That's how I won a mother fugin superbowl.  _

  
  


I was pulled from my memories by Aria, who was shaking my arm. "This crazy lady wants your spot. I already told her no, but she keeps on insisting." I told her off, and went back to thinking with the music. 

 

I never realized just how crazy my life has been so far. Pro sports, Directive 51, the Brotherhood, that cult in Montana. Now, Rainbow. The best of the best. It was like some crazy dream. A movie that I was staring in. I loved it, even with the occupational hazards. My freshest scar still felt raw to the touch. I hunched myself down, edging closer to Aria in an attempt to cover my face. Some days, I felt very confident about myself. I still had my old 'starting-quarterback-for-a-pro-football-team' mentality. Others, I felt self-conscious about it. The mirrors were no help, showing the fearful reflection of what that monster created. The pains were still sharp, the etchings reminding of a past I carry close to my heart, but only out of the fear of it being forgotten. The few people that were along for that hellish journey have all gone their separate ways. They probably only remember the outcome, not all the events we had to experience. But I did. I see it every damn day when I look into a mirror. 

 

But like them I tried to move on. One time, during my many 'wake-up-and-ball-my-eyes-out-like-the-child-I-am' nights, Aria gave me some useful advice I have attempted to use throughout all this. "The past is behind you. The only thing it hurts when you hold onto it is your future." 

 

"I've tried," I whispered. "I try so hard, every single day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I write, I just try to make a story. I put on some music, crawl into bed, and scratch down whatever comes to mind for a few hours. The issue with doing that is ideas start to run out really fast, and I lose interest in whatever I'm writing. To counter this, I will shorten this story and make three sister stories. 
> 
> Two are gonna be direct continuations of this, just separated by titles to help sort them. The other is gonna be an "origin story" for Sam. Its gonna involve him telling stories in the same matter as the superbowl story, and show his day to day life on the base. I've been noticing that's more of the types of work on this site (other than practically porn, which I have no interest in writing). While it's not my style, I'll dip my fingers into the fray and give it a try. After all, I need to be willing to learn as I go.


	5. Tactical Withdrawal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We never retreat, just walk backwards while blindly shooting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. It's been a while, hasn't it.

"I hate civilian air travel." 

 

We approached another black car in the tarmac. The driver, unlike the one in D.C., was a total dick and completely brushed us off as we lugged our heavy, heavy equipment over to him. It sucked, but we did it without complaining. After dumping the bags off in the trunk, we entered the car. The passenger seat was flipped backwards, and a man in a suit looked back at us. "Specialist Emily. De Luca. Good to see you guys made it." The man, who told us he worked with homeland security, briefed us on the situation.

 

"As of right now, we know about 20 to 30 armed terrorists have hunkered down in a house in Glendale. The house is three stories with a large backyard. The place is surrounded by a perimeter of sharpshooters who are watching the place in case anyone wants to run out. We wanted to try to raid the place on our own, but since the occupants have ties with the White Masks, higher-ups requested Rainbow's help." 

 

He pulled a map from his pocket and continued talking. "The bottom floor is a garage, laundry room and workout room. Above that, in the middle, is a living room, kitchen, and office. On top is two bedrooms and a workshop. Make of it as you see fit, but keep a path clear so we can assist any hostages we may find." 

 

I studied the map and contemplated the information he gave me. "We can use an exothermic charge to blow open the garage door, then sweep from the bottom up. Your prismas can make sure we don't get ambushed, then the coppers can escort anyone we find out." Aria nodded in agreement. "How far away are we from the house." The driver shouted "not far, if these damn people will move!" He honked the horn, pissing off the guy in front of us. He rolled down his window and flipped us off. I had to fight off the sensation of me rolling down my window and cussing the guy out. "You mentioned hostages, is there anyone confirmed in there?" The guy, who I'll call Suit, shook his head. "No, but we all know they like to keep them around. Watch your fire please." 

 

Strategy was spoken of as we sped across the freeway to our destination. The sky was getting dark as the car bobbed and weaved in between the other vehicles we shared the roads with. It reminded me of my time in Iraq, when our driver would panic and spead through the streets. I wasn't the type to typically get sick from that form of turning. My squad mates were different, and some of them would vomit all over our Humvees and trucks. Those memories brought me back to a simpler time, when I was only a young private. 17, fresh out of high school in a place where no one knew my name. It was so weird, moving from alway being in the spotlight to getting only know by a name I was uncomfortable using. Every time I would hear "Emily" just served as a reminder of the family I was a cog in. The pain that they gave me, the horrors I bore witness to, the suffering my bloodline caused. It was right their, painted onto my face, scarred into my mind for all to see. That was the reason I supposed I 'gave up" on my dreams of playing football. Distance from that, abomination, I was forced to call father. No matter how dead he was, no matter by whose hand dealt his final blow, his own or the creation that haunted his memories, it proved no way to escape the pure terror he brought down upon those children, who lost their lives due to one man feeling the need for revenge.

 

The memories faded as we approached the house, where multiple armored personnel carriers were stationed outside. Driver stopped the car a couple hundred yards away from the house, as we unloaded our cargo. We put on our tactical equipment. Loading magazines, strapping our plate carriers into place, counting rounds, making sure we made no mistakes. I pulled my exothermic charge from a satchel and prepped it to be placed. 

 

As we made our approach to the garage doors at the bottom, loud yelling rang from inside. "What are they saying," one of the cops asked. I recognized it as Spanish fairly quickly. "Something about fascist pigs." I placed the charge on the door as Aria got a flashbang ready. "Crater comin up." I clicked the trigger and the wall began to spark. I backed up and shouldered my M16 as the charge exploded. Aria went in first, letting out a loud spray from her AA12. Several bad guys who were hiding behind the cars dropped dead. I followed with my M16, hitting a bad guy as he ran for the workout room. 

 

"Clear!" The stack filed in behind us. "Hold the garage. Watch our backs, if we call there's a hostage, then you advance. Aria, on me. Throw a prisma in the next room, draw their fire." She pulled a prisma from a small bag on her side, and clicked a button on the side. "Setting the diversion." She lobbed it into the next room, drawing a wave of gunfire at the devise. It broke, but we were able to count the sounds and figured out about 4 terrorist were in there. 

 

We stacked up at the next entry way as I prepped a flashbang. I pulled the pin and nodded, signaling I was ready. I got a thumbs up from Aria's gloved hand, which showed of a bright white painted nails. "Go!" I lobbed the grenade into the center of the room. It popped, and aria went in first, letting another long burst of her AA12 ring out. 2 white mask dropped as a third ran for a door on the other side. He made it five feet before getting hit by one of the snipers posted along the house. We walked around the room, looking for the fourth when he lounged on top of me from behind cover. As he jumped up, I hit him with all my might with the butt of my rifle. The force shattered the stock but did stun the guy long enough for me to draw my M45. I unloaded all 7 rounds into his gut before punching him in the face, watching him fall to the ground. 

 

"Shit!" I looked down at my now ruined rifle, as the force broke not only the stock but also the buffer tube, leaving the recoil spring exposed. "Useless toy!" I threw it across the room and the remainder of the plastic parts broke. The terrorist had a Mini-14, and after replacing the magazines for his, I unfolded the wite stock the weapon had and shoulders it. "Looks fitting," Aria said in the corner of the room. "It feels nice." 

 

With my newly acquired rifle in hand, we moved up the stairs into the kitchen. Aria prepped another prisma to be thrown and lobbed it into the center of the room. Footsteps clumped over to us as labored breathing became louder and louder. All of a sudden, a terrorist in a hazmat suit and wearing a bomb vest started running toward our position. I hit the selector switch on my rifle and let out three controlled burst, landing them center mass. "He's still standing!" Aria shoved me out of the way, revolver in hand, and fired 5 shots into the bombers head. He dropped, milliseconds before tapping the trigger that would activate his vest. "Word of advice. These guys have a weak spot in the head. If you can, aim there. They soak up way too many body shots."

 

We cleared the next set of rooms in the same matter, tossing a prisma, and then lobbing a flashbang into the room. The second story was not so easy. The stairs over by the front were guarded by 3 terrorists, so as a destraction we tossed another prisma that way. They were gonna destroy it but a younger ones began to fiddle with the device. The back stairs provided a clear line of sight into the long hallway that connected the tree upstairs rooms. I requested for a sharpshooter to be moved to a treehouse that looked into the windows. The familiar beam of a laser sight tracked it's way up the stairs and onto my extended thumb. "Alright November 3, you're clear to advance." 

 

We moved slowly up the stairs, keeping our eyes forward so when we reach the top we can see the hallway. Before we reached it, a loud snap rang out through the room. A would be ambusher rolled to the ground, falling down the stairs. The cries of "SNIPER" rang out through the house. I gave an okay sign to our overwatch, who acknowledged it with a shine of the laser sight through it. "Cheeky bastard," he muttered over the mic. 

  


Once we got to the top of the stairs we were immediately under fire from the kids bedroom. I threw a flashbang in the general area of the door and ran for the workshop. It was a bad idea, because a terrorist was hiding with a shotgun in the back of the room. I took a blast to the plate carrier as I rushed him, twisting the gun from his grasp. It fell to the ground, and he balled his fists, ready for a fight. I didn't give him a chance. I kicked him square in the chest, pulling my pistol out at the same time. _Bang bang bang_! I put two in his chest, and another one in his head before kicking him again, this time through a window. A loud _splat_ was audible, and Aria visibly cringed when she heard it. 

 

I paid no attention to her as I turned to face yet another terrorist coming from the kids bedroom. After a quick spray from his rifle, he retreated back into the room. "Prisma, there?" I pointed my finger at the doorway. Aria put her hand into the satchel she kept the little orbs in, expecting to grab one. When she started patting the sides repeatedly I realized she was out. "That was my last one." At that moment, I remember I had a smoke grenade on my kit. "Time to get creative." I lobbed the grenade at the door frame. It exploded and gave us enough time to move. Using the dead terrorist's shotgun, I opened the wall in the corner that led to a small ridge just big enough to allow us to walk on it. I crawled out, putting three shots of 5.56 into the center mass of a guard. Another quick burst dropped a guy who was coming from the bathroom. 

 

We made it to the other side just as I ran out of ammo in the Mini-14. I drew the lever action rifle, which I kept in a leather holster on my back. I made another modification to it, enlarging the lever loop so I could cock it in one hand without breaking my fingers. All of a sudden, a frag grenade rolled out of the restroom while I was stashing away the 14 and blew up a few feet from us. I took some shrapnel in my side as I attempted to shield Aria from the blast. I fell off the ledge and heard running come from the kids bedroom, as the guys who were hunkered down there decided to rush. It failed as the barrage of pops rungoit in the room. They sounded far away, as if down the road from me. I stumbled up to my feet, scanning the surroundings. Smoke filled the air, along with wood splinters.

 

"Clear!" The high pitched scream of Aria's voice came from behind me, serving as a reminder of where I was. "Sammy! Are you okay!" I put my hand at my side, where the shrapnel pierced my skin. Blood leaked from the hole. "Think so." I limped up the stairs and looked at the bodies. The stench of death began to fill the house as the dead bodies from the beginning of our mission started the process of rotting. The door in the front of the house was replaced my a wooden barricade, and after smacking it a few times I broke through it like the kool aid man. The police had their guns drawn, and started barking orders for me to drop my weapon. My Mini-14 hit the ground as I put my hands up to show I wasn't a threat to them. They were just street cops after all, following orders to detain who ever walked out of that house. 

 

A booming voice over an intercom apologized to me once they realized I was on their side. I made way through the wave of blue to a small tent situated aways down the road. Inside, I found Suit. "Where's your partner," he asked me. I shrugged my shoulders, pointing a bloodied finger in the direction of the house. His eyes flipped between my hand and my torso. "Get that patched up, you're bleeding all over the place man." I undid the plate carrier to expose the wound. Once I actually saw the hole, I scoffed. "It's barely a scratch! I'll be fine." The paramedic who was coming up to treat my wounds started chuckling. "Typical fuckin' Fed."

....

 

Red streaks were scattered through the sky as the tip of the sun showed over the horizon. Light was scattered in beams due to the low layer of broken clouds that littered the sky. The only sounds to be heard was the rumble of cars returning home from the late night shifts many people had. We joined into their slow crawl. Occasional honks broke the dense silence. 

 

"How long do we have in the city?" I reached into my jacket pocket and grabbed the folded piece of paper with our orders. " 'Few hours, next plane leaves at 2:30." I continued looking down on the paper. "Looks like it's a straight shot to the base. On a government plane too." Our car slowed to a stop in front of a ruined looking house. "You sure this is the right place? Looks abandoned." I shouldered my duffle bag, now considerably lighter due to there not being 500 rounds of ammo in it. "It's fine. Thanks for the ride." 

 

Even before we walked up to the front door a loud barking was heard coming from the backyard. Excitement filled my heart as the deep _arph arph_ echoed through the neighborhood. I didn't hide my smile as I dug the worn key from my pocket and was met with a subsonic fur missile heading straight for me. I fell to the ground as I was bombarded with kisses to the face. "Hey Dogmeat. How you been, buddy?" I tried to get up but he buried his head into my chest, letting out long and loud whimpers. After a few moments on the ground he calmed down, and I was able to get up, with a hand from Aria. She bent down and started rubbing Dogmeat's belly. He tried to wag his tail, but it was docked before I got my hands on him. Now, every time he gets happy, he just starts shaking his butt. 

 

"Who's a good boy?" He started nipping her hand as they stayed on the floor and messed around. "What breed is he?" I reached down and started petting his head. "An Australian Cattle Dog. I found him following me outside a bar a few years back. Once I got home, my Abuelo threatened to turn him to dog meat if he ever did his business on the floor." As he heard his name called he laid down by my crouched feet. "I guess that's what his owners used to call him." 

 

A door slammed somewhere deep in the house. Loud shuffling preceded as an old man in a robe walked out of a hallway. "God dammit Sam, why are you here so early. It's like 3 A.M.!" He pointed a finger at Dogmeat. "Shut him up!" I turned my face serious as I summoned a loud commanding voice. " _Ruhig_!" Dogmeat instantly became quiet and lied down next to my feet. "Sorry, just wanted to come here and get my stuff before I left. I'm over in England right now, and it's been a hot minute since I've seen 'lil buddy." He shuffled over to Aria, grabbing her hand in his. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her cringe. "And who is this beautiful _mujer_?" He pulled his hand up to his mouth and kissed it. Aria drew her hand from his grasp before he could, leaving him in an awkward stance of kissing his own hand. "Calm down, old man, jeez. This is my girlfriend, Aria. We also work together." He stiffened up once I mentioned my work. "Still in the mercenary business, or did you finally find something stable?" I gave a wary glance to Aria, asking if I should reveal what I now do. She gave a quick shake of her head. The Old Man noticed, and asked "is there something you would like to share?" "I'm back with the military, working like I used to." I started to walk into the hallway that connected our living room/kitchen with the bedrooms. "Is my stuff still in my room?" He gave a thumbs up. "Yeah, take whatever." 

 

I followed the confusing hallway to the back of the house, feeling the waves of nostalgia as I walked passed the 4 most important doors in my childhood. The first three were normal, a bathroom, my mom and Abuelo's rooms. The last one, I took a pause before I went in. Aria put her hand on my shoulder, quietly asking if I was okay. "Yeah. Just remembering." I opened the door into the tiny room, just barely big enough to fit a small cot and a dresser. On top of the dresser was a T.V. and an old gaming console. The left side, opposite of the dresser held a closet with sliding doors. I walked over to it and opened the doors, showing the mess of clothes, scrap metal, and sports equipment. I dug around, setting aside parts of projects I thought would be useful for when I got back to base. In the corner, I found a large one meter by one meter by one meter box. I drug it our and set it on the cot. 

 

"This. This is what I came back for." A scratching sound came from the door. "Can you pop the door open, its Dogmeat." She cracked open the door and he jumped up onto the bed. He settled in Aria's lap after getting a few pats on the head from me. _Click_. I flicked open my pocket knife and cut the tape that sealed the lid. 

 

I skimmed my hand all inside, feeling the contents and pulling them out one by one. We sat together for a few hours, looking at everything before leaving to go and get a meal. 

 

The first thing I pulled out of the box was, well, another box. "What's that?" Aria asked as I opened it up. I flung the lid open and delicately pulled the contents out. "These, are my pride and joy." The first ring was large, gawky and very cumbersome. Loads of diamonds shoved into any spot that had enough room to hold them. Inscriptions on the side bore the words "Sam Emily, 5, Quarterback." On the opposite it had "2014-2015 World Champions" engraved into the silver. "This one, I got for winning a superbowl. Here, let me see your finger." She took off her glove and stuck out her left ring finger. The ring slipped on easily, due to its large size. "Why is it so big, are all you football players trying to compensate for something?" I let out a quick chuckle as j took the ring off. "Okay, we don't need to bring the 'Centimeter Peter' into this. Here, if you want a smaller one, this should suit you."

 

I grabbed the other ring, which was much smaller in comparison. It lacked all the complex designs of the Superbowl ring, merely having a single diamond in the shape of a football. The interior read "Sam Emily, QB, California Champion." This one also had the letters "M.V.P." in the side. "2005 high school football champions. I won one championship before I left for the Marines." I placed the smaller ring on her right ring finger. She wiggled it around, feeling the less cumbersome weight. "I like this one. The low profile and minimalistic design go together well. What other stuff do you have in here." 

 

Before I could warn her about the random sharp objects that could go off at any second a muffled _snap_ came from the box. Her hand shot out of the box, a small cut letting out a few drops of blood. "What was that?" I dug around for a moment before pulling out the object I suspected gave her the cut. "I've told you about my dad, how he used to work with robots right?" She nodded, but her attention was more focused on her finger. Dogmeat noticed she was in a little pain, and he curled up in her lap. "Well, he had this crazy idea about making these robots that could have the mechanical parts compressed, then worn as normal suits. He made a few prototypes, but they never hit the main market. Too dangerous for normal use, and you needed to be specially trained to even put it on." I held up a little stip of metal. It had an odd hinge in the middle, and two springs attached with wires. "This is what he came up with. Called them spring locks. You took a key, and since all the locks were connected they could be compressed all together by turning it. See, the issue is, these things couldn't stay down when they got wet. They would shoot out the robotic components the devices tried so hard to protect you from." I let the springlock snap for effect. "Another deathtrap my father created." 

 

The next thing I pulled out was a small, black brick. Aria gave me a confused look as I flipped a small switch at the bottom. A warm orange ring started to glow as the machine whirred to life. "Hello, Samuel. It has been one year, three month, and 27 days since you last were activated." The machine started running through different things like location, weather and other stuff of that nature. "Nice to hear you too, ISAC." I flipped the off switch and put it off to the side. "Who is Isaac?" 

 

"To help us agents out with identifying targets, the Strategic Homeland Division, or more commonly called "The Divison" created an advanced artificial intelligence that was able to track security camera footage, gather criminal records, and relay it all back to us agents in the field. This, along with a smart watch which I'm pretty sure is somewhere in here, provided us with the connection to that A.I." 

 

After digging about and finding the watch, I set the items aside and moved on. "Ohh huh ho, this ones a weirdo!" I attached a long brace like object to my right arm. After attempting a few times, a blade popped out of the brace. Aria backed up when she saw it. "Woah, how'd you do that." I retracted the blade. "I've taken this thing apart 4 times to clean it, yet I still have no idea how it works. All you gotta do is flex your arm, like you're about to punch someone. But like, your whole arm. It's hard to explain." I took it off and handed it to her. She strapped it to her wrists and shot her arm up, opening the blade first try. "Adriano and I found blades like this when we raided a villa during my first operation, Para Bellum." She sheathed it and took it off. "Do you know what this symbol means?" She pointed to a weird looking triangle, up at the top near the wrist. "That's the symbol of The Brotherhood. I don't know much about them, but I ran a few guard details and an assassination for them. They gave me it, and some weird robe, as a gift. 'For a reliable subject, who shall serve our goals for many years to come.' I took my money and got the fuck out of there. Not the only cult I've worked for in my time." 

 

I had a weird cross on a necklace in my hand. "Montana. I was pulling guard detail for a month before their leader tried to radicalize me and turn me to a prophet or some shit. They forced me to not cut my hair, and I had to constantly wear this cross at all times." I looked down at it. "Makes for a nice momento though." 

 

Most of the other things didn't have a major story, some scrap components, an old jersey, and an autographed picture of me duct taping my arm on a bench during the superbowl. At last, at the bottom of the box was a car key. The logo was long worn off, and the sides were starting to rub off. I put the contents back into the box, along with some clothes from my closet. Before I left the house, I searched the closet. "X marks the spot." I broke the drywall and started pulling bundles of hundred dollar bills. "How'd you get that much money?" I loaded the cash into the box. "Years of running merc ops, dealing drugs, and living like a nomad for years led to me just saving a bunch of money. 250,000 dollars." 

 

I taped up the box and carried it into the garage. Aria followed, carrying a bag of food for Dogmeat. Two cars were parked in there. One, a generic old person car, and the other was under a tarp. I pulled it off and revealed my personal car, a 1969 Dodge Charger. I placed our bags and the backseat as I hopped in through the window. The keys clinked together as I happily shoved them into the ignition. _Rmv rmv_. Roaring the engine to life drew Aria out of her trance. I stuck my head out the window. "V8, hits 330 horsepower. 0 to 60 in 5 seconds. Annnnnd, it has this." A mechanical whirr came from the roof, as the roof pulled back. I stood up on the seat as Dogmeat jumped onto the seat. My hand was out, offering help into my car. She eagerly took it and climbed into the passenger seat. She smiled as I opened the garage door, backing the car up I to the road. I passed her a pair of goggles and slipped my own on. Dogmeat also had a custom made pair, and Aria put it on for him. 

 

"So, where are we gonna go?" She was holding tightly onto Dogmeat, as his tongue flopped around everywhere. I stopped at a red light and turned to her, flipping up my goggles. "We can go anywhere." I leaned in for a kiss, and we sat there, deep in a trance, for what felt like a long time. What drew us out was the honking of the car behind us. We laughed together as we sped off into the sun, ready to take on the world. 

 

"Ow, my side."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, no, I'm not dead. I had free time, with an off week from football during the fourth and only weight room after. And you know what I did with it. 
> 
> Played lots of yee'haw mode. 
> 
> Anyways, updates may get more sparatic like this as I will try to write in my free time. Its gonna be worse when my school year starts, but I wont forget about the three people who continuously read this.


	6. Where Eagles Dare (part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leave no man behind, that's how its supposed to work, right. 
> 
> Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? 3 uploads in one weekend. What am I, crazy. 
> 
> I hope not.
> 
> Edit: Please read More Background Information Required To Proceeded before reading this chapter.

"What do you mean M.I.A.?" 

 

I slammed my fist onto the table, but immediately regretted it as a flaring pain crawled up my side. Thatcher and Sledge started to walk forward, but Harry signaled for them to stand down. "I mean exactly that, missing in action. Specialist Trace, along with Kötz, Jenson, and McKinley, were all captured when raiding a White Mask compound during Phantom Sight. Only Thorn was able to escape." 

 

I calmed down a little, allowing my thoughts to flee from panic to formulating a plan. "Are we gonna send someone, or sit here and let them rot?" He placed his hand on my shoulder. "I assure you, we are doing everything we can to get them out. A team is going to be on the ground within the day. If it makes you feel better, you and Aria are both on the extraction teams." I gave him a quick nod as I walked out of the office. Dogmeat was on his back, as Rook and Aria rubbed his belly. Once he saw me, he got off the floor and waddled to my direction. Rook scurried off once Dogmeat left, and Aria followed him to me. "What'd he say?" 

 

I squatted down to pet Dogmeat. "We've got a few hours, and then we'll be deployed." She immediately looked to my side. "You can't be going on a mission, your wound will open." A flair of pain came from the wound. When I went in for surgery, Doc wasn't able to find three of the bits of shrapnel. They went in too deep. "I'll be fine, I've got to save them." I shuffled over to my barracks, Dogmeat by my side. He tired to go and sniff everything he could. Most of the operators stopped me, practically begging me to pet him. IQ actually gave me a hug, thanking me for bringing him onto base. She held on for a little too long, and a suspicious look came from Aria. Once IQ noticed, she went red and muttered a quick apology. 

 

My room was a complete mess, the contents of my box scattered all over my room. The ISAC brick was attached to my go bag, the hidden blade and robe separated and somewhere that isn't together. The rings were the only thing that were not scattered about, with the case delicately placed on the dresser. A _bzzz bzzz_ came from both of our phones. "Report to the briefing room immediately." I dropped my go bag and groaned. "Can I not have a five minute break?" I practically kicked open my door, startling Aria and Maverick, who also got a text. He looked horrible, with dark bags under his eyes and grime still in his face from the mission. "Hey Sam." I gave a quick wave. "Hey Erik." 

 

The slow walk back in the direction of Harry's office was tedious to say the least. More operators slowly filled our ranks. Frost and Buck came from their room, which was right next to the Americans. Glaz and Kapkan joined us after we passed by the mess hall, both of them holding onto plates filled with food. Caviera and Vigil joined us sometime between picking up the Russians and the new girl I didn't recognize. She wore a large hood, and dark lipstick. As an acknowledgement she bumped her head up, giving me a brief gaze at her eyes. "Emily, right?" Her hand was extended, in greeting. I shook it. "Yeah, and you are?" She adjusted her hood, pulling it down further. The way it sat reminded me of The Brotherhood, and the way they always concealed their identity. "Call me Nøkk. I'm an infiltration specialist." 

 

Our little caravan of ten approached the briefing room as Jäger held the door open. Thatcher, Tachanka, Doc, and Sledge were already inside, around a projector. We took our seats as Harry and Thatcher stood at the front. "As you all may know, four of our specialists were captured during a raid on a major White Mask compound in the Ural Mountains." A snapping sound was heard in the back as an image of an ancient looking fortress was displayed. "This, is the compound. A three hundred year old base deep in the heart of mountains. It is the forward operating base of the White Masks in the region. We sent in a basic strike team, and they were captured before they could be extracted. Erik, can you please come over here and describe the location?" Maverick sat up, and walked to the front. "The base is very secluded, with only three ways in. HALO jumping, an abandoned cable car, and the front gate." He put a slash through an area that had a path into the base. "The front is extremely well guarded, and the path we took to infiltrate it only allowed a one way trip." He circled a blurry box down in the western corner. "The cable car is plausible enough, but it's extremely unreliable. Then again, so is HALO jumping if we miss our mark." Thatcher dismissed him and grabbed the marker. "Anyone got any ideas?" I raised my hand. "Yes Emily?" I made my way up to the front and stood at the board. "Have two teams, one HALO drop on one side, the other climb the cable car. Sweep and clear till we find the hostages, then emergency evac at the front after the two teams reconnect. Hold down till I'm assuming Jäger is able to get us out of there." Murmurs came from the crowd, then sounds of agreement. Buck raised his hand. "So, who's gonna be in what teams?" 

 

We organize ourselves and decided the teams. Orange team was to infiltrate through the cable car. Naturally, since they were suited to the cold, Frost, Buck, Kapkan and Glaz were apart of Orange. Blue, which was going in HALO had Aria, Caviera, Vigil, and Nøkk. Maverick and I were team leaders, and got to choose which way we wanted to enter. 

 

"Okay, hotshot, how do you want to do this?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, ever since I started writing I always wanted to do a choose your own adventure style part of one of my stories. It was a concept I never got off the ground, until now. The issue is, how do i go about it? 
> 
> My first idea is writing both chapters, and letting you guys read whichever one you decided. I like that idea, but its gonna be a lot longer. 
> 
> The second idea is to have you guys comment which one yall want to see, but since CrypticWonder is the only one who comments (thanks for the encouragement bud, I woulda given up after chapter 4 if it wasn't for you) it kinda wouldn't be fair. 
> 
> So, I'll compromise. Tell me which one you'd rather see, and I'll work on both. If none of them win, or no one comments then I'll release both.
> 
> I hope this goes over well, and tell me if I should do more things like this in the future.


	7. Where Eagles Dare (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're closing in the fortress is near  
> It's standing high in the sky.  
> The cable car's the only way in  
> It's really impossible to climb.
> 
> They make their way but maybe too late  
> They've got to try to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the cable car route. I'm going to try and finish this arc before working anymore on More Background Information Required To Proceeded, but hey, let's see how it goes.

"Lucky for you, I'm afraid of heights."

 

...

 

 

No matter how many insulated layers I wore, the cold still managed to find it's way inside. Our visibility was horrible due to a blizzard that all of a sudden took hold on the area. Sharp winds and so much of the delicate white powder covered us from head to toe. I shivered constantly, my poor bones and body still used to the blistering heat of Southern California. Glaz was point, constantly stopping us and sweeping the area with his thermal scope. Kapkan brought up the rear, making sure we weren't ambushed. That left Frost, Buck and I in the middle. 

 

 

"You know, I never did thank you for what you did in Mexico." Frost tried to make conversation, but I didn't really pay attention. My only focus was to keep the furball I had in a harness on my chest warm. "Hm?" I pulled one of my earbuds out, which was on full blast playing music. "Mexico. I never got the chance to thank you for it." "Oh," I responded with. I was extremely focused on keeping Dogmeat warm, constantly rubbing his head and patting his belly. "Why did you do it anyway?" I paused for a second, thinking if I should tell her the actual truth, of make up something. The truth seemed like a better option. "You're hot, and I figured it would score me some points with whoever you worked for. I was low on supplies and needed another job, so I figured if I could show I'm trustworthy, I'll be set up with more work or at least get a recommendation." I shoved my earbud back into my ear as ISAC's voice drowned out the music. 

 

 

"Approaching target, 25 meters." Glaz shot a fist up in the air, and then signaled for me to move forward. "There's the cable car Erik was talking about," he whispered. An old abandoned shack was barely visible through the thick snow, but the outline of the cable going into the sky and a small box car was dark in contrast to the bright, white snow. Buck walked up right next to us, binoculars in hand. "You think it'll work?" I grabbed a car battery that was strapped to his pack and jumper cables I had wedged under Dogmeat. "Why'd you think I grabbed these, watch my six." Snow crunches under my feet as I ran to the shack, battery in one hand, pistol in another. 

 

 

The door didn't require too much force to kick open, and after only two hits it sprung out of its frame. It's metal hinges flew off, and I shot the two guards who were standing around, the only thing they were trying to fight off boredom. My normal M45 was swapped out for an old Browning Hi-Power. The gun was practically silent when using a suppressor, which was perfect for our infiltration. Frost and Buck weren't happy, and they had to share all their spare guns with us. I pulled my mic close and whispered into it. "Clear. Mission Actual, we have control of the lift. Begin HALO jumping in 5 minutes." A short crackle was cut out as Thatcher's angry voice came over the coms. "Copy Orange One, waiting on your go." 

 

 

I let Dogmeat out of his harness and he walked to the door and sat, waiting to alert me if any hostles will walk by. After a moment of tinkering with the top, I popped the lid off the console and stared into the mess of wires. I attached the cables to the battery and tapped them together, just to make sure it had power. A loud sparking came from the cables, and Dogmeat jumped. "Positive and negative, you got this Sam." Sounds of something frying could be heard as I held down the cables on the power source, surging electricity into the console. The familiar _whirr_ of electronics played in the background as the console was brought to life. "Yes! Hey guys, it's working!" 

 

 

I walked out into the blizzard to find them already waiting outside the cable car, figuring out how to open the latch lock on the door. "I think we need a key," Kapkan muttered. I did a 180 around and went back into the shack, searching the bodies. I found a lanyard, with five chrome colored keys. "Here, try these." I tossed them over to Kapkan. Dogmeat must've thought it was fetch, cause he ran with them in midair and tackled Buck while trying to catch them. I laughed as he tried to fight of a wave of kisses to the face, but had no affect. "Come on, let's go." I grabbed Dogmeat by a loop on his plate carrier and lobbed him into the now opened door of the cable car. "Orange One is in business, you're clear Blue." A quick copy came from Maverick as the loud sounds of wind drowned his voice. "See you on the other side." 

 

 

The group entered the car, but I hung back. "Give me a moment, I gotta take care of something." I grabbed my radio from its designated pocket and switched the channel. " _Mi amor_ , you there?" My attention was constantly shifting to my back, making sure the rest of my team wasn't in ear shot. The static went dead as Aria's voice came over the radio. "I'm here." I clutched the receiver really close and whispered "stay safe." I put the radio back and flipped it to the main channel. "Let's get this shit going!" 

 

...

 

 

I knew something was wrong once I heard the loud groans of the cables. The metallic crunch of the gears bringing the car to a stop startled all of us. I lurched forward, landing right on top of Frost. "What the hell, Emily," Glaz barked angrily. "You promised there wouldnt be any electrical problems." My hand immediately shot up to the roof. The slow mechanical _whirr_ was still audible. "It's not the power, someone stopped it." There was a small hatch on the top. "Hey, help me get up there!" Kapkan and Buck boosted me up and I popped open the hatch. Visibility was low, but I was able to see the ridge about 20 meters from us. "Alright, I can see our target. We're gonna have to climb." 

 

 

Glaz went first, using care and delicacy to slide across the cable. Frost followed, setting traps up to protect our overwatch. Buck went across, although hesitantly. I had to use a makeshift harness in order to convince him it was safe. Last on the roof of the car was Kapkan and I. That was about when shit started getting messy. 

 

 

It started as Glaz taking potshots into the blizzard in the direction of the shack. I asked what he was doing, but he didn't respond. Then, the cable started to shake as shouts came from the other side. "Oh fuck!" Kapkan's panicked voice filled the air as I felt Dogmeat start to squirm in the harness. "We've gotta go, now!" A loud _snap_ echoed as the car swung down, the cable cut. My hand was already on the cable as I shot my other to Kapkan. He grabbed it right before we started to fall. "SHITTTTTTT!" I turned to my side to protect Dogmeat as I slammed into the cliff. The jagged rocks cut into my already wounded side as I struggled to keep a hold on Kapkan. "FROST," I screamed. "Drop one of your ice picks!" A metal _clank_ came from the top as an ice pick fell. Kapkan caught it, but looked terrified as he eyed the ground, which was at least a thousand feet below us. "Kapkan, look at me, we gone be fine. Just listen to me, homie. Swing your arm as high as you can and stick that pick up. I'm gonna start to inch up, and then your gonna grab the cable, okay. HEY!" His worried eyes looked up at me, almost ready to cry. "I've got you bud, don't worry." 

 

 

He swung his arm up, and with all his might embedded the pick into the dense ice. I was a tad relieved, and my arm wasn't holding as much weight. I slowly shifted up as a rope was dropped. Glaz leaned over the edge and was screaming something. "Grab on, the three of us will pull you up!" He looked over to me, for confirmation he would be safe. I just nodded. With a scream, he let go of my hand and grabbed the rope with no complications. He was breathing hard and I started congratulating him. "Told you we would be fine." Warm liquid started to creep down my chest as whimpers and howls came from the harness. _Al menos no se cagó a sí mismo_. We pulled ourselves up and immediately Glaz ran over to Kapkan, comforting him. They whispered to each other in Russian before Glaz came over. "Thank you, _друг_." 

 

...

 

"All the leaves are brown, and the sky is gray. I've been for a walk, on a winter's day. I'd be safe and warm, if I was in L.A." The looks didn't stop as we approached the fortress. "California dreamin, on such a winter's day." A small door with two more guards in front was within vision. Words were coming from the radio, but I didn't understand them. "Psst, Glaz, you understand what they sayin." His eyes turned to me as he screwed on a suppressor to his rifle. "Be on the lookout for infiltrators, they may be coming for the hostages." I quietly racked the slide on my Hi-Power. "You got the right, I got the left." The _phtt-phtt_ of our guns going off and the sounds of the slides racking another bullet in the chamber drowned out our friends running up to set a breech charge on the door. It exploded, leaving a ringing in my ears. 

 

 

"Okay buddy," I whispered once we entered. "This is why you're here." I let Dogmeat out of his harness while I went into my bag. I grabbed a shirt, which I took from Jordan's dirty clothes pile, and let him sniff it. "Find the trail, boy." He dug his nose into the ground and started sniffing, leading us through the corridors and chambers of the fort. On multiple occasions, we stopped as he started growling, alerting us to the enemy's presence. I had ISAC turned off, so it was extremely helpful. We were spotted once, but Dogmeat again saved the day by pouncing on the guy while he ran. He started yelling as Dogmeat dug his teeth into his arm, holding him in place and allowing me to headshot him. 

 

 

After about an hour of searching and accidentally running into Caviera trying to interrogate someone, Dogmeat's nose led us to a cell. We could hear people on the other side as I gently knocked on the metal door. I tried to remember some Morse Code, but I could only tap out S.O.S. Someone else was knocking back when the other team reconnected with us. They watched my back as I set up the exothermic charge, and set our friends free.

 

 

Or so we thought. 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spanish, at least he did not shit himself
> 
> I'm going to combine this one and last chapter once I'm totally done with this story, and have HALO as a separate chapter or story.


	8. Where Eagles Dare (part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The panicking cries the roaring of guns  
> Are echoing all around the valley.  
> The mission complete they make to escape  
> Away from the Eagles Nest.
> 
> They dared to go where no one would try  
> They chose to fly where eagles dare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got extremely important news for yall at the end, but for now, enjoy.

The sound of the exothermic charge opening up the thick concrete wall was cut off quickly when I felt a bullet fly past my face. "Contacts!" Automatic gunfire came spraying down the hall as I scrambled for cover. I pulled the Mini-14 from my back and returned fire, using precise 3 round burst taps instead of just spraying in the general direction of the enemy, like most of my other teammates. Once the density of the lead in the air fell to non-lethal levels I ran to the wall, setting a second charge down. "This better not break, I've only got one more," I muttered to myself. I pulled the trigger out of a pouch and clicked it, activating the thermite and actually releasing our friends. 

 

 

A muffled yell came from the room as the sparks started, and after a few seconds punched a hole big enough for us to run into. A loud scream preceded the blast, with Blackbeard scampering to the corner, covering his ears. I called out to him, but he just sat there, rocking and covering his ears. An older guy with a moustache started to snap his fingers around his ears, but there was no response. "Shit, he's lost his hearing." He had a southern accent, but not a Texan one. More like Kentucky, or Tennessee. "Yo, Elias, help me get him to his feet." Blitz walked over to them as I approached Jordan, bringing him in for a big bear hug. Dogmeat started barking, being used to mauling people who got too close to me. I shouted a command to him in German and he sat down, waiting. "I knew you would come for me." We held each other for a few seconds too long before a loud ahem came from Maverick. "We need to leave, now!" After arming themselves with the various AKs and pistols, the prisoners, now free, joined us in the battle to escape. Alive. 

 

...

 

"Watch my six, I'm reloading." I flipped the magazine out of the well and shoved a replacement in it. "I'm on my last mag!" Aria popped out of our cover and let out a few quick taps. "Me too," she whispered in a soft, defeated voice. We managed to reach the front gate, where defensive positions were taken and we called Jäger and Tachanka to pick us up in the helicopter. The original E.T.A. for them was 15 minutes, but nearly 2 hours later we were still pinned down. Most of us, thinking it would be a quick in and out raid, didn't pack more than 5 magazines in our primary weapons. Most of our pistols were useless beyond 25 meters, which was about half the distance between us and the bad guys. They were pouring from the main fortress which was nearly 60 meters away from the main gate, where we took over some of the watchtowers and gun emplacements and commandeered them for our use. For about an hour we kept our attackers at bay with various surplus world war 2 machine guns. Then our ammo ran out and ever since Jordan and I have been attempting to gather the materials to make some thermite bombs to cover our escape into the forest. In our minds, once we ran out of ammo if Jäger wasn't here we would run to our forward operating base, which was in the forest not far from here. 

 

 

I turned my attention from the firefight to the pile of rust and metal powder I had collected. Fuel was gathered from one of the armored cars by the gate. I carefully mixed it, making sure the ratio was correct. "Can you hurry up!" Nøkk scrambled to our position and dove behind the sandbags. "Yeah, please that would be nice." Aria drew he revolver and emptied the cylinder into a White Mask trying to sneak up on us. His mask fell of when he was blown back by three rounds of .357 magnum. Words like anguish and terror are the only I could think of when I saw the look in his eyes. I shuddered at the thought. "Do you wanna do this? Cause if I fuck up, I could lose my hands. Then we can't try that thing we were talking about. You know, where I put one of my hands inside your-". She cut me off by nailing me in the head with a snowball and yelling at me to shut up in Italian.

 

 

My radio crackled as I heard Jäger over it. "Colt, you there?" I grabbed it and pulled the receiver up to my mouth. "Yeah, still here. What the hell is taking you so long?" He responded with something along the lines of engine trouble, but I couldn't hear him. Dogmeat was barking at a mask who was approaching us from behind. He ran up to the terrorist and sunk his teeth into his arm, giving Nøkk enough time to pull out her Desert Eagle and blast the poor bastard in the face. "I don't care about the reason, how much time till you're here." More gunshots rang out as Vigil ran from his cover after being compromised. He took a round in the shoulder, falling over. Dogmeat immediately ran to him and was licking his face. His teeth went for Vigil's hood, and he tried to drag him across to me. The Southern guy, who I learned was called Warden, ran over to Vigil and carried him the rest of the way. "I've got wounded and we are dangerously low on ammo. We've got 15 minutes maybe. Colt out!" 

 

 

I finished up the grenades and placed them delicately in a satchel to my side, which was supposed to hold my magazines. Like everyone else, I didn't collect them when they ran dry, instead leaving them on the ground as a reminder of the path we took. 

 

 

For another 20 minutes we managed to hold the enemies at bay. I ran out of ammo in my Mini-14 and switched over to my lever-action, which I had in its now signature leather holster. A routine was forming where I would only load one bullet at a time in order to try and be as accurate as possible. That broke when I had only five .44 bullets left. "Jäger," I yelled into my radio. "Jäger, either you hurry up and get here or we're gonna walk to the base." There was no response from the radio, only a continuous rumble coming from the west. It got louder and louder as I emptied the tube of my gun. "Jäger, we need you right now!" A large helicopter appeared from behind the mountains as the radio came to life. "This on time for you?" It turned to its side and Tachanka started to mow down the remaining attackers with his LMG. We all started to cheer as the many people who caused us so much frustration and pain very quickly became a few. I grabbed the grenades from my satchel and started throwing them into the direction of the fortress, watching as the hot metal shot off in all directions. Jäger touched the helicopter down in the center of the space. 

 

 

"Thanks for the help Alexi." He jumped off the helicopter and ran over to help Blackbeard carry Vigil. Jäger gave me a thumbs up as I place Dogmeat up on the floor of the copter. I climbed up and helped the others onto the beast while Tachanka got back on his turret to cover our escape. "Well, thank God we're outta that," Blackbeard yelled once we started flying. Loud yelling was coming from a balcony and men scrambling to set up something. "Not yet," I whispered, as a loud explosion rumbled the helicopter, blowing the tail off and sending us into a spin.

 

 

"Shit!" Jäger was screaming into the communication system. "We're down lads!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On my football team, I'm not technically a player. I still work out with everyone, get a practice jersey , and throw with the quarterbacks when needed, but my official title is coach's assistant. My main responsibility is to help with film breakdown and play calling. The latter is what is bad for yall. For at least ten weeks I'm going to be almost completely dedicated to the film room, and only able to release small stories on Background Information. The next big story will be delayed for those 10 weeks while I get through the long season.
> 
> But I have 2 weeks till it starts, so I will finish up this story.


	9. The Past, at last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of crazy shit so crazy I dont know how to summarize it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EXTREME apologies for the quality of this chapter. Due to me possibly being on a list I could not write this chapter how I wished. So, please, bear with it cause I put some important shit in it.

"Is everyone okay?" My head was throbbing with pain as I opened my eyes to see I was face first in the dirt. Aria was wrapped around me, slowly getting up and Dogmeat was licking my face, trying to wake me up. His whimpers of pain were loud as I saw a large hunk of glass in his foot. I reached out and patted his head. He calmed slightly, nuzzling his muzzle into my hand and blindly licking. "Ugh, I feel like hammered shit." Aria's hand was outstretched and i took it, letting my weight balance in her small hand. "Jeez," she said. "You look like hammered shit." I wiped some of the blood from my forehead, feeling the newly opened cut up by my temple. "Lucky for me looks don't count for anything in Rainbow." 

 

After climbing out I delicately treated Dogmeat's wounds, liberally using both duct tape and some whiskey Maverick had to calm him during the mission. The howls of pain broke my heart as it took three people to hold down the poor bastard, but I felt better knowing my best friend could at least trot. After pulling all the wounded out of the crashed helicopter, the able bodied started to plan. Those few numbers were Aria and I, Warden, Jordan, Tachanka, and Buck. Most of the wounds were minor enough to not hinder ones movement, but they made them useless in a fight. Nøkk and Maverick both had broken arms, glass was embedded in Caviera's hands, Frost was stabbed by a small metal shard, and Glaz and Kapkan had some random shrapnel in their feet. Poor Jäger had the worst of it though. He was impaled by a portion of the control stick and was knocked unconscious, possibly due to pain. 

 

"We can't sit here and wait for people to come," Jordan finally said after an uncomfortable silence. "We need to get Jäger to Doc." Warden jumped in. "And how do you propose that, the base is at least 20 miles away, and search parties will be here soon. I say we boobie trap the forest and make a last stand." Tachanka scoffed at the comment. "With what weapons. We have almost no ammo in our rifles and my machine gun is fucked. I say, we make a run for the base." I got a quick tap on the shoulder. "How far is 20 miles," Aria asked. My brain spaced out as I tries to remember the metric system. "Uh, I think, its, 30 kilometers?" A shocked look appeared on her face. "That would take hours, maybe even a day with our wounded." Buck started talking, but I turned my attention to a stray 9mm that happend to be on the ground. "Guys", I said as I pulled the bullet off and dumped the powder onto my hand. "I think I got an idea."

...

"Colt, you don't have to do this, any of us are more than capable of it too." Warden kept on persisting that I stop and escape with them, but I just sat down and continued to twist tails into my beard. I tied the last one off and stuck a small fuse I made in it. "You guys don't have the showmanship I do. Trust me, no matter what you hear, no matter what you see, don't come back." My rifle was at my side, and after scraping together some 5.56 I managed to fill 2 magazines. That wasn't going to be my primary however, as I racked the slide back on the Hi-Power. The group gave me all their spare mags, and I was left with almost 200 rounds of 9mm in a practically silent gun. I also had the hidden blade on, as I ip3nd and closed it just to test if the oiling process took effect.

 

I reached into my pocket and pulled a piece of paper out. It had some incoherence scribbles all over one side, and I walked over to Jordan with it in my hand. He was over by the wreckage, comforting Aria. She was completely silent as I walked by and silently passed him the note. He knew what it was and pocketed it immediately. My head then turned to Aria. " _Mi amor_ , just trust me. Please. That's all you have to do." She turned her head really quickly and walked off as the rest of the ops started chasing her. Dogs barking started to become audible in the distance. "Stay safe Samuel." I waved my hand at my friends as I turned to Dogmeat and grabbed a long spear from a bush. 

 

"You ready for a long night boy?" 

...

_ Re: Physiological evaluation  _

_ Subject: Samuel "Colt" Emily _

 

I creeped through the trees as I heard the footsteps of the enemies below me. The _shick_ of the hidden blade opening alerted one of the guys who looked up and only saw me bury the blade in his throat. He tried to call out, but I smothered his face with my hand. 

 

_ When a person is able to stand out amongst other completely competent and high ranking operators it goes to show how much value they carry. Not only is Emily one of our most physically fit operators, (out running the likes of Ash even with his machine gun) he is also one of our most intelligent. I have not seen an operator who is able to easily transfer from both offense to defense without losing any strategic advantages.  _

 

The numbers of the enemies slowly dwindled down as I plunged the blade into their backs. I used the Hi-Power to finish them off. Pretty soon, it went from about 30 guys to only 10. They reached the crash site, and also the booby traps I laid down. Sounds of tripwire going off and the look of surprise made chuckle slightly as an explosive went off and killed half their team. I ran over with my spear and finished off the last five who were mortally wounded. My screams echoed through the forest as I repeatedly jabbed the stick into the lifeless corpses that surrounded me. 

 

_ He is far from perfect however. A heavy case of PTSD from whatever caused his scars is extremely evident, showcased by constant nightmares he has. He never came to me personally, rather I only learned of these after he accidentally started suffocating Specialist Aria "Alibi" De Luca in her sleep. Whatever it was, weather a fight or an accident, I need to look into it to help him out.  _

 

More footsteps came from the west as I climbed back into the trees. I lurked, waiting to see a straggler away from the group. Once one did appear, I pulled a thermite grenade from my pocket and dropped it on him. While the others went to investigate I pulled the point man up into the tree with me. I looked him dead in the eyes as I slowly plunged the blade into his stomach disembowel him. The screams were muffled as I shoved his mouth full of the rags of his fallen comrades. 

 

_ Another thing I've observed are his relationships with operators. He and Specialist De Luca are an unstoppable pair on defense, and he works very well with Specialist Trace on offense. At the moment he is currently romantically involved with De Luca, and they are together most of the time. Whether it be in the workshop, at the range, or the gym they are never out of ear shot of each other.  _

 

The blade and gun made short work of the next group as half of them were mowed down by blazing hot shrapnel. I remained undetected as I pulled the bad guys into the snow and ended their lives. After I thinned them out, I jumped up and nailed the last 5 in the head. Explosions and tripwires could be heard triggering deep in the snow, and that's where I next began to stalk. 

 

_ I think his relationship with Trace is more interesting however. Beyond the people he occasionally mingles with in the workshop Trace is practically his connection to many of the other operators. When he gives orders during the simulations, his team rarely listens to him, but rather waits for Trace to relay the orders. It has been changing, and after taking charge of a rescue mission during Operation Phantom Sight his peers have become accustomed to listing to him  _

 

The next group of people I came across had several dogs who immediately alerted their masters to a stranger in the trees. I evaded heavy fire as I grabbed the Mini-14 from my back and returned fire. In contrast to the long, sporadic groupings of my enemies I used short, controlled bursts. For every quick tap of my trigger I needed to drop a bad guy. And it worked, as I took out all 15 of the guys with only one magazine. Now all that was left were the dogs. 

 

_ The dog he's been keeping on base has been really helping lots of people. As would be typical in their line of work many of the operators suffer from a form of PTSD. As a therapist I could only do so much for them, and Dogmeat provides a comfort factor that reminds many of the operators of their homes.  _

 

I felt the flames to my back as I fought of the dogs that attempted to latch onto my arm. Another tripwire was triggered close to me, but at the moment I was too distracted by the massive shepherd that dug its teeth into me. It tried to bite my throat and finish me off, but I grabbed it mid lounge and snapped its neck. I felt no remorse for the dogs, since in my head, it's either me, or them. 

 

_ As for his combat abilities, he is an expert in close quarters. According to SHD records, he stood out during training and would routinely be sent into apartment blocks, sewars, or anywhere else in New York's "Dark Zone" that required close quarters combat. Not necessarily hand to hand fighting, which he leaves a lot to be desired, but if I were to give him a MP5 and said "hop into these sewers and kill anyone you see" I would know I sent the best man for the job.  _

 

ISAC somehow got reactivated during the fight. His voice called out targets as I climbed through the trees. It reminded me a lot of my time in New York, when it was constantly snowing and cold. Honestly, it's kind of ironic I hate the snow, since I spent an entire year playing football in it.

 

_ Despite his very . . . interesting . . . past as a professional sports player it hasn't caused a change in his ego at all. He is incredibly humble, but will reminisce about old times when he tells stories to anyone who could stand to listen. It has led to many competitive moments during training exercises, including a friendly game he organized turning into and absolute massacre in terms of score.  _

 

I let out a loud scream as I was stabbed in the side by a charging terrorist. The pain was intense, and in a fit of rage I smacked him in the face with the spear. Horrific pain coming from my many wounds slowed me down in terms of combat, but I felt more lethal than ever. The waves of enemies started to slow, as the timing became more sporadic. By the end, almost 150 guys met their fate by my hands or the traps that littered the ground. I practically had to crawl back to the helicopter where I hid Dogmeat. When I finally made it, I found a survivor of my massacre lying on the snow in a pool of his own blood. I hit the ground right next to him and flipped face up. Sunlight started to pierce the treeline and an orange glow reflected off the places where the snow wasn't red. "Was it fun for you as well?" I started to chuckle at the joke I made as this man stayed beside me dying. 

 

_ Overall, from my evaluation of his skills I believe him to be an excellent fit for Rainbow, and he shall service our needs at the moment and for many years to come.  _

 

"COLT! WHERE ARE YA BUDDY!" I heard my voice being screamed in the distance, but I didn't care. I only wanted to sleep, to satisfy this sudden exhaust that filled me know that I knew I would be safe. I closed my eyes, and fell face first into the white powder. 

 

_ *WARNING: CLASSIFIED INTEL. ONLY SECURITY CLEARANCE WHITE HAS ACCESS TO THESE FILES. ALL OTHERS ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH* _

 

_ His work with the Division as a "hunter" of rouge agents could provide very useful if certain rumors are to be believed. Current intelligence our moles have uncovered suggest operators may begin to go rogue in the near future. His ability to lose remorse for his "targets" is easy to manipulate if something can be uncovered to "force his hand". Nothing has come up yet, but due to his past, it should not be hard to find a murder or a robbery we can exploit . _

 

_ *WARNING: CLASSIFIED INTEL. ONLY SECURITY CLEARANCE WHITE HAS ACCESS TO THESE FILES. ALL OTHERS ARE PUNISHABLE BY DEATH* _

_Dr. Harishva "Harry" Pandey_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I was supposed to have a whole excerpt on him building the traps but again, I may be on a list and I dont want the alphabet bois to know anything. So, again, apologies for the quality. 
> 
> My school comes back on the 7th so things may get slow in terms of the last chapter, cause its gotta be as long as the old ones used to be. Hopefully, I'll see yall in two weeks or so. But for now, have a nice day. Or week. Or month maybe.


	10. The Best We Got...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past never stays hidden for for long, not if big brother has a say in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, shit. This is the end. Of this story, at least.

_ 6 months later _

 

My thoughts flooded back to me as the crackling loudspeaker announced my name and told me to report to "test bay 4". I stood from the small stool that I set up in my personal armory. Dogmeat looked up from his bed and started panting. A small smile formed on my face as I pulled a green makeshift mask down from the bottom half of my face. "Let's go buddy. The door opened with a _buzz_ , and with my M-60 in hand I began walking down a bright white corridor to the test bays. 

 

"Hey, Sammy!" I flipped my head around and saw Aria walk out of her armory. She was holding her MX4 and had a small satchel by her side. "You get called for training too," she asked me, as she pulled her own red bandana from her face. I nodded as I grabbed her hand in my own. "Which bay?" "2," she responded with. We walked into a large circular room. 10 doors were arranged around the room, with odds being to our left and evens to the right. Blast style doors with numbers painted in bright yellow stood before us. We shifted to look at each other, with her hands going to my shoulders and mine to her waist. She pulled me in close, the small diamond on a ring on her left finger scratching my face. "Stay safe," she whispered before jumping forward into a short peck on the lips. "Hey, at least we don't have gadgets that blow up," I joked. Faint sounds of Fuze's cluster charge could be heard, possibly right next to us. She turned to her own door and clicked a bright red button to open it. As it closed behind her, the metal _clunk_ pulling deep memories from my past back fresh in my mind. "Huugh," I shuddered. Dogmeat sensed I was uncomfortable and he hopped up into my lap. "I really should have cut your nails before the testing today." I clicked the red button and headed into the test bay. 

 

A bright white room with a training dummy in the center of the room and a small vertical course leading to it was laid out before me. Two people, one with a clipboard and the other holding a microphone stood in an observation room to my right, overlooking the entire room. Thick, bullet proof glass protected them from any shrapnel that may go their way. "Please state your name," the man on the mic lazily muttered. "Sam Emily!" I shouted it, making sure they could hear me. "No need to shout, what is your code name." "Colt," I responded with. The clipboard man was scribbling down the information as he heard it. "And what unit are you from?" Jordan warned me that this question would be asked, and I took a lot of time thinking about how I should answer. "Private Military Contractor." The clipboard gave his partner a quizzical look, and he returned it with a nod. "Please, describe your gadget to us." 

 

"For thousands of years, we've relied on dogs for labour, hunting and protection. With razor sharp teeth, noses that could track a man for miles, and a moral boost like no other animal, it was only a matter of time before man would turn it's best friend into a weapon of war." 

 

"Now, please, demonstrate." I beckoned my hand over to the start of the obstacle course, where Dogmeat patiently looked at me. A small piece of cloth that was covered in sweat was on the ground, and I picked it up and let him sniff it. I whispered the German word for harm in his ear and he started to growl in the direction of the dummy. Loud barking echoed through the room as he ran into the first obstacle, which were 4 bars he had to hop and crawl under. He effortlessly glided over and under the bars, picking up speed as he crawled under some barbed wire. A small see-saw with a very narrow plank of plywood was next, which was meant to test his parents. He walked slowly, leaping off the little seat before reaching the last obstacle, where he had to weave around some metal poles. I thought constantly he would ram his muzzle into one of the poles but with graceful agility he made it through. A 10 meter chase down was the last thing he did, which I thought he nearly broke the sound barrier when he leaped into the air and bit into the throat of the dummy. I ran over, yelling "Good boy Dogmeat," over and over again. I pulled a small treat from my pocket and gave it to him, giving pets on the head. 

 

Small applause was softly echoing through the mic as the two seemed decently impressed. "Please enter the VR control kit behind the wall." I took a peak behind the brick wall the dummy was and saw an odd looking suit hanging off of a rail. A smaller one with four leg holes was also on the platform, which looked like a treadmill. After grabbing Dogmeat I climbed up onto it and placed him into the harness. He tried shaking out of it, and I laughed as he pawed at the headset as I placed it over his eyes. As I flipped the on switch his attention moved to whatever was being displayed on his screen. I fiddled with the suit for a few minutes, trying to squeeze my legs into the tight holes, which after a few seconds they loosened and I was able to fit. The wires got tangled as I put on the suit, which I also had to take a few seconds trying to untangle them. After I was successful, I finally put the headset over my face and turned it on. 

 

I stared at a black screen for a few seconds before an image of a bank flashed onto my screen. After a moment it switched to an over the top view of the building, asking me to pick where I would like to breach the building at. I chose alley access, and for my weapons I went with the M-60 and lever gun. After another blank screen, I was staring into my phone with a short timer appearing in the top corner. "Yoo, Sam. You in here too?" Blitz was standing right next to me, controlling his drone with the phone. 

 

"Yeah, what the hell is this place." I jumped over the counter and saw a wooden barricade. "Open area, Chanka and Marius. Mute got my drone." My view switched to Blitz's, and I saw Aria. "A few days ago Harry told us we were gonna start a new training program. I thought it got out to everyone?" His drone did some parkour over Mute's jammer. "Yes, Ela last one." A booming voice told us we only had a few seconds left. "Ready?" I nodded my head

 

"You've found the biohazard container." I started to jog to the window. "If anyone needs to sneeze, do it now." Small snickers came from the rest of the team as I muttered "cheeky bastard" into the mic. "Remember, it's not over till I blow something up," Hibana whispered into her comms. Shots started to ring as Blackbeard called out that Jäger was trying to rush the tunnel. With a quick burst from his AK-12, Fuze dispatched him. Blitz walked up to the window and started to smash it."Well, looks like we have a slight advan-." Before he could finish his sentence, Tachanka's turret started spraying bullets. Blitz absorbed most of initial volleys in his shield, but took a headshot while making his escape. "Well, shit. Looks like we gotta flank." As I smashed a barricade, a notification saying I was spotted popped up on my screen. With quick precision I whipped my lever gun from its sheath and shot it at the cam. 

 

Once I was inside, I was instantly under fire from Ela, who was in the middle of setting up and ambush. I sprayed in the direction of where I last saw her, attempting to stop her from moving or getting any help from her allies. "Alright boy, it's time for us to shine." My fingers went straight to my mouth as I blew one high note and another low note. After a few seconds, Dogmeat came trotting into the room. He seems confused, trying to ram his nose into the ground and figure out where the hell he was. "Get over here!" I held my hand up as he caught Ela's scent. "Go get her boy!" 

 

After a few seconds of screaming and a prompt saying it was now a 4v3 Dogmeat ran back over to me, panting heavily and covered in something red and sticky. "Good boy," I whispered as I patted his head. I started to sneak through the small courtyard like room as Hibana repelled down from the skylights that were above. Together, we breached into an archive room, which had an office in the back. Once we were inside the small office, I noticed the walls were reinforced with metal. "Ah shit. Aye, Hib, can you take care of this?" She nodded and pulled her X-KAIROS launcher out. She shot the three pellets into a weird, M-like formation, which gave me enough room to crawl into the open area. "Clear," she whispered into the mic. The pellets took some time to warm up, and I could hear Tachanka's turret get set up on the other side. 

 

Once the holes were actually opened, we were immediately under fire from the turret. I caught a bullet to the side as I tried to roll over to the desk. Hibana wasn't as lucky, and absorbed most of the bullets for me. My brain started to go over the possible options, when Dogmeat started to whimper at my side. Those whimpers turned into barks, and out of nowhere Mute ran into the room. Dogmeat lounged and grabbed onto his arm, anchoring the bastard for just long enough so I could pop him with a headshot. "Cluster charge going live!" A few of the grenades coming from Fuze's gadget were stopped by Jäger's ADS. But only two were needed to take out Tachanka. Gunshots erupted from the area as Blackbeard perished. "Alibi on m-!" He was cut off by 3 shotgun blasts from Aria's pistol. I crawled through the small rotation hole as I saw the hatch opened and Aria drop down. The sounds of a prisma activating were heard as I rounded a corner and saw 2 Alibi's staring at me. I swung the lever gun out and shot one of them in the head, ending the round. 

 

"Opfor eliminated, good job." 

...

"I still have no idea how you knew." Aria stabbed her fork into her food with lots of frustration. A laugh stifled in my throat as I almost choked on my food. "I know you're proud of the ring, but it doesn't really help with your gadget. Maybe we can update the image tonight, after dinner?" She shrugged her shoulders. "Sure, but I thought we were gonna fix that harness for Dogmeat?" Dogmeat's ears pricked up as I took a piece of meat from my food and gave it to him. "We'll figure it out." 

 

_Bzzz bzzz_. My phone suddenly went off, and I opened it up to check what the notification was. _Please report to Harry's office at once._ "I'll be back," I muttered as I shot out of my chair. Dogmeat also got up and followed me to the door, but much slower. I stood in the hall for a moment, waiting for him to catch up. A slight limp developed in his walk, but I shook it off as just being tired from today's training. 

 

As I was about to turn a corner, Cav came of nowhere. I actually didn't hear her until she put her hand on my shoulder. "Holy shit! Don't be sneaking up on people like that." She retracted her hand, more startled from the encounter than me. "I'm sorry, old habits. Have you seen Ela? I checked her dorm, and the mission roster said she wasn't training today?" I shook my head. "Nah, I haven't seen her. Woulda known that green head from anywhere." She nodded and went on her way. 

 

Once I actually reached Harry's office, Dogmeat started to growl. I didn't understand at first, but after I entered, I saw why. On Harry's desk were 2 files, along with a very old shotgun. "Um, Harry, what's this about?" He wasn't facing me, instead his chair was turned around. 

 

"How long did you think you could keep this hidden Sam?" A confused look spread across my face. "Uh, Sir I have no idea what you're talking about." He finally turned around and reached for the shotgun. "An 1897 Trench Gun. A highly prized piece for any collector, yes?" I nodded. "This bring up any . . . _dead_. . . memories?" 

 

"No sir, I told you about everything." _Shit_ I thought to myself. _They fucking know._ "May 22nd, 2007? That ring any bells?" My legs began to tremble. "Well then, maybe this will remind you!" He threw one of the files down in front of me. I picked it up and started to read it.

 

_ In the early morning hours of May 22nd I pulled a 1969 Dodge Challenger over on Highway 9, just outside of Hurricane, Utah. The initial cause of the traffic stop had been suspicious behavior. Upon walking up, a horrendous stench could be smelled from his trunk. His window was immediately rolled down, and his license and registration were presented. His license was from California, as were the plates to his car. On his face were multiple fresh stitches. When inquired about how he got such horrific injuries, he claimed "he tripped in his father's workshop, and fell into a mirror." When asked about his father, he named "Henry Emily" (bullshit) and it lined up with his own last name, Samuel Emily. After relaying all the information to dispatch, I asked about his trunk. He claimed it was his dog (whomst he named Dog) that he had to put down. I investigated, and found the body of a German Shepherd with many lacerations and a large shotgun hole in his side. Samuel claimed "he fought a wild animal, and he was forced to." 12 gauge rounds and a bayonet were also found, but the shotgun they belonged to was nowhere in sight. After giving him his information back, I let him go free. _

 

"Okay," I said after I read it. "This doesn't incriminate me in any way." He let out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't take a high IQ to figure out what happened. Flip the page, see if that rings any bells." When I turned it over, a few images of dead bodies covered in blood fell out. 

 

_ At approximately 8am on the 21st of May a complaint about "an ungodly stench" coming from the safe room of a family owned children's pizzeria. The bodies of 4 security guards and the owner were found stuffed into Fazbear Entertainment patented Springlock suits. One of the guards, whom was pronounced dead once he reached the hospital described an "old school car, like a muscle one." Also the suspect was described to be "extremely fucked up, we beat his ass good." Several shotgun shells, and an old M1897 Trench Shotgun were recovered at the scene. Whatever happend, and however it happened, I haven't seen anything like this since those Freddy's murders back in '95. But with no solid leads, I don't think we can catch him.  _

 

I dropped the file down on the desk with a defeated look on my face. "What do you want me to do?" My voice was trembling. This much fear hasn't been flowing through my veins in a long, long time. Harry had a villainous smile on his face. At first, he tried to hide it, but when he slid the other file to me it was fully showing. "Do you remember Scarecrow? That rogue Division agent you hinted for 3 days in the dark zone?" I gave a slow nod, as I picked up the file and started to read. "I need that level of tenacity in tracking your targets right now. You have a mission, and I need it to be completed swiftly." The folder had Ela's photo on the top, along with various locations, and a schedule. "Kill/capture order, do whatever you wish. Just make sure she's out of my hair." 

 

"Why? Why am I doing this shit! Explain to me why the fuck I'm doing all this shit! Everyone else has got shit on em, why me!" I slammed my fist into the table. The loud, sudden noise startled Dogmeat, and he started growling in the direction of Harry. "Runter Junge! " He calmed, but only a little bit. "I was told you're our best. Another agent, also a great counter intelligence will be joining you in this operation." I gripped the shotgun and nodded, keeping my composure until I walked out of the room. Aria was waiting for me outside. "What happened," she asked. 

 

I let a few tears fall, words fail to describe the emotions I felt knowing I am now the hunter of my team. I was now the leader of Operation Broken Spear. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Football is kicking my ass bois. Between this, school, and big brother keeping tabs on me and the goons is tough. 
> 
> I have a meme page on Instagram if yall want to talk to me or something till the next story starts up, which isn't til at least November. Ah well, here's for the best to all. 
> 
> Instagram: @random_thermite_main   
> (Shameless plug I know)


	11. Samuel "Colt" Emily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> File for Specialist Samuel "Colt" Emily

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus chapter? Yeah, I got really bored and decided "this would be a fun idea. 
> 
> So, enjoy.

Name: Samuel Emily 

Date of birth: May 15, 1990 (age 27)

Place of birth: New Harmony, Utah

Height: 1.77 Meters (5'9)

Weight: 84 Kilograms (187 pounds)

 

Background:

 

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. And by God, these times are changing." 

 

Tragedy struck Emily's family when he was 3 years old, as his sister was murdered by a crazed killer in front of his young eyes. After being forcibly taken from his father's care by his mother shortly after, the family resettled in Los Angeles, California where it was a constant struggle to keep Emily away from the rampant gang life that surrounded him. He discovered a love for American Football as an alternative, having major success during his high school years. But the tragedy of life followed, and during an unknown event in his hometown, his face was left mangled and scarred. Due to his uncomfortably high intelligence, he finished school a year early and joined the Marine Corps.

 

At first he wanted to be in the Marine Raiders, but after a training mission in a circus environment exposed a deep fear of mirrors. He moved on to combat engineering. With a love of explosives and being under Operator Jordan "Thermite" Trace (who was a Sergeant at the time) they worked together as one of the most efficient fireteams the Corps had ever seen. But, as with all of his life, tragedy struck again and he was forced from a job he loved. 

 

Instead of wallowing in the shadows he made his way onto an NFL roster and won a Championship game. In between those years a name was made for himself as a skilled PMC, and he was contracted to be a part of the Strategic Homeland Division, more commonly called "The Division". During his second season the dollar flu began to ravage New York City, and he was placed on standby as a third wave. He was deployed, specializing in Dark Zone ops, and then removed after the JTF got a decent foothold in the area. Afterwards he went AWOL for the defense of Washing D.C., instead becoming a guard for a religious group in Montana. That fell out only after a month. Another shady group contracted him to do assassination missions, which earned him a reputation as an amazing tracker. That job also didn't last long. 

 

Most recently, the Mexican Counter Drug Trafficking Task Force consulted with him to acquire intel on a drug cartel, which led him right into the hands of Rainbow. 

 

Physiological Report: 

Samuel "Colt" Emily is quite the extraordinary subject. As one of the newest operators we obtained, he's a genuinely remarkable subject in both pure physicality and mental intelligence. A tactical genius, putting the planning abilities of operators like Sledge and Mira to shame. In addition, his ability to modify and adapt fellow teammates equipment (while in the field, mind you) is unparalleled. If you need what he calls "a quick fix" in the field, I think more operators trust him than Jäger and Mira working together. Physically, if we could create another class of speed and strength, he would instantly be the first "3 armour, 3 speed". He's just a lot more tolerant to physical pain than some of the others. Obviously during the simulations, we call him dead sooner as to not cause more complaints about overpowered operators (see ACOG removal and the "Nerffbeard" incident). I have no doubt in his abilities, and the presence of Dogmeat makes them the most effective duo on the field, putting Mozzie and Gridlock to shame. 

 

More interesting than his field work is the amount of psychological data I've collected on him. Firstly, I want to quell any notion that he is less than any of the operators due to a "mental handicap". PTSD is a serious issue, and mixed with an extremely mild case of autism and ADHD means easily prone to "freeze-ups" than any other operator. They tend not to happen like traditional "attacks", rather just times when he'll stop whatever he's doing and focus on something completely different. I don't even think his fiancée, Specialist De Luca, has completely noticed. It's not something that affects his performance, I actually found it by chance when I dug into his old school records. 

 

My biggest worry, however, is his intense "fear" involving mirrors. He shared a tidbit during the initial interview, saying he "doesn't like talking about it". Rather, I gathered the whole "smashed into mirror" thing from De Luca. Quite a few nights Emily woke up in a cold sweat, explaining the horrific dreams he was experiencing. De Luca relayed that back to me, with the hope of helping his sleep cycle. Everytime I do talk to him, however no details are shared. Black ink plagues the majority of files with his name, and if I could pull some strings with the SHD, maybe I can uncover one of the biggest mysteries in Rainbow (other than Nøkk's real identity).

 

Dr Harishva Pandey

 

Training: 

USMC MARSOC 

Strategic Homeland Division Field Agent Training

New England Patriots NFL Training Camp

 

Relative Experience: 

Combat tour in Iraq

SHD 3rd wave New York

Numerous PMC contracts 

 

Notes:

"Sam, that quiet guy? Yeah, we all know him. Although we don't say it enough, he truly is a great teammate. Nobody knows when his 'gifts' started to show up but we all appreciate them. All I remember is the modified armor panels showing up in my locker with a little note saying "use wisely, don't block out your teammates." The only way I was able to tell he wrote it was that sloppy handwriting. I honestly feel bad for the guy. Barely any friends, that quiet demeanor. Then when he talks, you can just tell he's so uncomfortable. Not like Chul, mind you. He wants to be friends with everyone, but something is stopping him. Maybe it's the scars, that first night in the bar, or whatever. 

 

What I can say, is Dogmeat really helps him out."

 

Specialist Miles "Castle" Campbell

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I really put NFL traning camp. Dont ask, shits hard.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanc


End file.
